Wingnuts Invade Hogwarts
by Omphalina
Summary: The Magic Ministries of the world hold the first Universal Wizard Tournament in attempt to strengthen ties between them and the schools. Hermione and Draco struggle with the stress of the competition and a wacky new Muggle Studies Teacher in their 7th yea
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Hey guys! I replaced and editted everything because I wasn't so proud of what this story was before. Anyway, It's about mainly Draco and Hermione. It is still coming together. I sort of only have the outline done. Actually, its partially done. I have a very important decision to make... I'm quite a busy person, but I'm determined. I am determined to finish this story! I'll do as best I can. I am an amateur writer, so don't expect the best. If I ever have time, I'll keep making revisions so this story can be the best it can be. I don't want anyone to read my story and just forget it. Please put it on your Story Alert list. I'm not forcing you to, and I'm not begging for reviews either, though those would be nice. Maybe reviews will make me better and update faster. Ah well. Thanx to the readers I had before. I guess you might have to read my story over again because it could be confusing from where I left off. Don't worry, I wrote more. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything...but I will someday!! Bwahahaha!**

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Chapter One

Blurs of rich green, umber brown, and dark, silvery blue whizzed past the great Hogwarts Express train. It were deep in the middle of nowhere, rumbling past a long, winding river. The time was just past eleven. The sky above was a forbidding gray. Sunlight struggled vainly to break through clumpy gray clouds drifting with the wind.

Hermione Granger, an eighteen year-old Gryffindor witch now in beauty and still a relentlessly nimble minded maven, sat right up by the window with her face pressed upon the cold glass. She was alone in the compartment. Her famous hero of a friend Harry Potter; her red-haired, more than often red-faced, and even more than often red-eared ex-boyfriend Ron Weasley; one of her few female, still Harry-obsessed, Ron-related friend Ginny Weasley; quirky and broad-minded Luna Lovegood; and even the bungling, fumbling Neville Longbottom had deserted her. Random pieces of junk left by the group rattled and rolled about on the floor. Owl cages jumbled and crashed together loudly, but Hermione hardly took notice. She was lost somewhere in her own mind. Who could ever know what she was thinking.

One possibility was that she was analyzing strange things happening to many of the male students. Already she had caught over ten boys staring at her. She swore they blushed when she caught their gazes with questioning eyes. Now she could be forging a connection between these boys. Perhaps they plotted something for her and her friends. But that couldn't be it. Ron was one of those boys. He wouldn't dare keep anything from her. They had declared true friendship, nothing more, nothing less, shortly after their break-up. She would most certainly ask him a few questions when he got back.

That is, however, if her thoughts were really those suspicions. Running through her mind could be something simple and much more common for a student like her.

The year about to begin would probably be on her mind's agenda. This was her last year. It was bound to be special. The seventh year would sure be something. With interesting new things to learn, teachers to reveal their true thoughts about their departing students, and of course the departure. The Graduation Ball was always something to look forward to. But before that you would have to add to the list of accomplishments. Besides saving the entire wizarding world, valedictorian was the one main goal in life. Even if she had succeeded in getting higher marks than any other student, if she screwed the last year, she would soon be clapping for someone else walking down the stage. The very thought listening to another's success speech and thank-you's and how hard work paid off made her sick. Really, who could be more hardworking than her?

We may never know what she was thinking. She had stopped. Her preoccupied gaze left the scenery. What else would Hermione Granger do?

Thumbing through the pages of an all-time favorite, Hogwarts: A History, she settled herself comfortably in a corner. At a random page, she immersed herself in the book like she'd never read it. This, of course, wasn't true. Her classmates had seen her read the book hundreds of times. And that was only at school. You might think this girl would get tired of it. You're wrong. Some would think she were pitifully obsessed. Others would be simply disgusted.

She had, without even knowing it, trained herself to memorize things with uncanny speed and perfection.

She was murmuring the text of the last two pages --- She may have even traced the pictures in her head. Her speech was a quiet mush, but it appeared her memorization was flawless. Her lips moved as if she were talking normally, her head shook with emotion, and the her hands even shook the book as if she were trying to thoroughly explain to an invisible class of students --- when there was a knock at the door.

She cringed at the sound. Her thoughts, most of the memory of the last two pages, were flooded away by bursts of annoyance. She lifted her magnetized head up from the book. Through the glass of the compartment door she saw two sneering faces.

They both belonged to Slytherins. Both brought back horrid memories and both brought sudden curiosity. The two laughed as she put aside her book. She got up to let them in. Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini stepped in without any thanks.

"Aw, yuck," Blaise grimaced enthusiastically, "smells like owl poop, Weasley, toad, and…"

Her heart sank. She had actually looked forward to this year since the war had ended. She had been treated a bit more nicely by some purebloods. She had gotten herself into thinking that the Slytherins would be friendlier towards her, but the spiteful looks of those two didn't promise much.

And now she faced the hateful M word.

"Potter," Draco finished.

Hermione sat in the corner again, looking small as Draco and Blaise towered over at least six feet.

"So what brings you here?" asked Hermione, sounding unintentionally casual and polite.

"Why so friendly, Granger?" Draco asked slyly. Hermione blushed at her foolishness.

Blaise, as he did earlier, looked at her oddly. Or rather, to be more correct, with an expression she failed to identify.

She was going blank at her embarrassment, but blurted, "I asked the question first."

"MmHm, at loss for a good comeback?" Draco inquired, shaking his head disappointedly. "You come up with 'I asked the question first'" He spoke accusingly. There was a mysterious glint in his eye. Was he planning something devious to spit at her? Or was he just up for a fight?

"Maybe Weaselbee ---" started Blaise, snapping out of the trance Hermione had cast upon him. A mean elbow from Draco interrupted him.

"I'm here because I've got some interesting, yet unfortunate news for you," he said after swishing a strand of platinum blonde hair from his face. "Head news."

"Head news? Oh, have you finally gotten enough money to shrink your freakishly large head?" Hermione asked.

"Pathetic, Granger." Draco said, thwarted again by dashing hopes. "Pathetically pathetic. Really, what's gotten into you?" He shook his head.

Blaise look at her expectantly, if not adoringly…dazed… Then Draco said, "Head news as in Head Boy and Head Girl. Duh, Granger."

Oh _that _news, Hermione thought glumly to herself. She was already down from acting so stupid in front of Draco. It was difficult for her to admit that she was not able to come up with a good comeback because she was so preoccupied with the new image of her school rival. He was taller, more muscular, and less aristocratically dressed: with an old looking emerald green vest over a simple white shirt, sleeves were rolled up halfway, displaying tanner skin, and his hair wasn't gelled. His facial features were bold; maybe he did not look friendly, but she could blame that on that unmistakable trademark smirk he carried all the time. Without it he would look handsome…or maybe handsome_-er_. He looked neat though, and since Hermione didn't like extremely proper boys or extremely dirty boys, he fell right under _perfect_, much to her dismay.

Hermione had been so worried when she received only one letter from Hogwarts. She had been expecting another to tell her that she had become Head Girl. She thought the owl may have gotten lost. Up until that day she had been waiting readily at the window. She had let herself agree, not without a huge wave of depression and the mature suppression of a hissy fit, with the fact that some other girl earned the title she had been working towards for years.

"I am Head Boy!" Draco said proudly, flashing a winning smile at her. It disappeared, though. Malfoy's didn't smile.

Hermione feared she had blushed again. She turned redder just at the thought. "So how is that unfortunate?" she asked in attempt to rid the feeling.

"I am not finished yet, Granger," said Draco, glaring at her angrily. "The unfortunate news is," he paused and frowned, "_you're_ Head Girl."

Hermione lit up. "What? How? I didn't get a letter or anything. Why did _you_ ---" she stopped mid-sentence. She was acting excited towards Malfoy.

"Yeah," snorted Draco, dusting off imaginary dust from his clothes. He acted as if she were a filthy creature before him. But how could he? He hadn't even called her the M word, yet.

"McGonagall wants us in the Head's compartment," said Draco and he slid the door open and left. Blaise glanced at her one last time and then trailed after Draco. Hermione thought she heard Draco mutter, "Filthy."

She sighed sadly and slumped into her seat.

Several moments later, as Hermione escaped a dull state of mind, the compartment door slid open. Tall, messy-haired, and lanky Harry and Ron entered, smiling and nodding to Hermione as they plopped onto the seats next to each other. In their arms they each carried heaping piles of chocolate frogs. After combining them into a bigger pile between their seats, they started sifting through the boxes, searching.

"Where did you get all those?" Hermione asked curiously, craning her neck to see what they were looking for. Ron pulled out an ordinary looking box, held it up to his ear, and shook it. Harry did the same with his. "What are you doing?"

"Checking to see if its lucky." replied Harry, and he furrowed his brow again as he shook the box.

"I see, and how will you know if it is?" questioned Hermione.

"We don't know yet," Ron replied, "Fred and George just said we'd know when we've found one."

"What are Fred ---" Hermione stopped. Ginny and Luna entered the compartment, whispering and giggling to each other.

"Hey, Ginny, Luna." greeted Hermione. Luna greeted her as well, but Ginny looked past Hermione to stare admiringly at Harry, rummaging through the pile again.

"It was amazing what you did Harry," Ginny said breathlessly.

"Mm?" Harry looked up at her, "Oh yeah. Yeah, thanks Gin. But I didn't really do anything. It was those first years."

"Yeah, it pretty much was their fault," Ron added, "I mean, who wouldn't know Harry could produce a corporeal Patronous. There was a picture of it on the front cover of the Daily Prophet for Merlin's sakes!"

"It was so magnificent the way you showed them off, Harry." Ginny said, truly proud.

"So you made bets?" asked Hermione, incredulous. Harry and Ron nodded. "Do either of you have any sense of decency at all?! _Gambling with first years_, taking advantage of them, the very though disgusts me!"

"Jeez, 'Mione. Calm down."

"I will, thank you very much, just as soon as you return all those frogs. _Now_, or detentions for both of you."

"You can't give us detentions!"

"Yes I can," said Hermione reproachfully. "For your information I've been made--"

"Look, Harry!" said Ron gleefully, shaking a box fiercely. "I think I've found one. Listen."

They all fell silent as Ron shook the box. Surprisingly, croaking sounds were heard.

"A frog croakin' before its left the box. Brilliant!" Ron mused.

"I don't think its coming from the box." said Hermione, and soon, as if on cue, Neville Longbottom stumbled to the entrance of the compartment. He was panting and flushed. Clutched tightly in his hands was a slimy, bumpy toad.

"I found him. I found Trevor."

"See, Ginny? Neville found Trevor all by himself, but if we hadn't had to race to Harry because you saw him with those first years, he would have found him faster."

"I was curious," Ginny said sheepishly to Luna.

"Yes, well anyway," Hermione started after watching Ginny blush and hide behind Luna, "I've been made Head Girl."

"That's great, Hermione." said Ginny.

"Congratulations." Luna said.

"Yeah, congratulations!" Neville chimed in.

"Why didn't you tell us before?" Ron asked.

"Didn't find out until just now," Hermione replied quietly.

"Well, we're all proud of you Hermione." Harry said.

"Thank you," Hermione said, "um, so you and Ron take the frogs back. I'm late! I've got to meet Professor McGonagall at the Head's compartment. See you." She took her book bag and hurried out.

She made her way through the thick crowd of students in the hall, saying many apologies and pardons in the process.

In her haste, she didn't realize she had no idea where the Head's compartment was. She ended up halted at a dead end. Feeling like an idiot, she scanned the crowd for someone who could help her.

There actually weren't many people around. The mob was off in the distance down the hall. Near her was a group of second year boys huddled together, deep in conversation, probably plotting something. The loner wandering about was a short, peculiar looking girl. She was wearing very colorful clothing: a bright patterned purple shirt under a small, dark denim vest decorated with glitter and sequins; she had two short skirts on: a ruffled scarlet skirt poofing up a dark denim decorated skirt. Bright orange and black striped socks reached just past her knees. Her blonde hair was up in two pigtails and streaked several times with lightning blue. Sure she looked a bit flamboyant, but the look was kind of cute. Of course, you would never see Hermione wearing clothes like that.

The girl's face looked a little too old for her petite size. She was older than the second year boys, she knew that for sure. Third-year probably? Then how come she had never seen her before? She seemed the better choice to ask for help of the two.

"Excuse me?" Hermione asked, tapping the girl's shoulder lightly. She whirled around, startled.

"Oh, yes?"

"Could you help me? I seem to have forgotten where the Head Boy and Head Girl's compartment is located. Do you know by any chance?"

"Um, well I did see two seventh years pass by here talking about the Head Girl. Could that be you?"

"Yes. Where did they go then?"

"You were just there." the girl pointed her finger of her gloved hand at the dead end Hermione was just at.

"But it's a--"

"Yeah, I know. They walked right through it! It was just like Platform 9¾, except I think there's another charm on it because I can't get in."

"Okay. I think I can get in. I should be able to." Hermione started towards the dead end, then she remembered something and ran back to the girl. "Sorry, forgot to thank you. Um, thanks. I'm Hermione Granger."

"Oh I know you. Other people have been talking about you. The guys think you're hot, especially one of the boys who just went into that compartment. These two Slytherin girls were making fun of you. Calling you a…a mudblood."

"Yeah, um I kinda didn't need to know that." Hermione said stiffly.

"Its really not much of an insult, you know. Its just something for purebloods to say to make themselves feel better. My mum's muggle-born. My dad's muggle-born. Hmm, maybe that makes me half-blood?"

Hermione laughed uncertainly.

"Anyhoo, I'm Georgie Isilee."

"Pleased to meet you, Georgie. Sorry, gotta go."

Passing through the wall felt awfully like flooing and using a portkey. When she opened her eyes she saw three people looking at her. Anger, but mostly embarrassment surged from the ends of her curly brown hair to the tips of her toes. Blaise Zabini sat studying every single aspect of her body like some obsessed pervert. Draco Malfoy sat with his legs crossed, leaning back in his seat clearly entertained, and with that infamous smirk hanging on his face. What disturbed her most was Professor McGonagall sitting directly in front of her. Her lips were pressed tightly together, her eyebrows were quirked up, and she was looking stern and un-approving at her. Hermione only got that look when she was with Harry or Ron. Seeing a teacher like this towards her made her want to cry. Perfect students just don't take this sort of treatment like others.

"Ms. Granger, do you have any explanation for why you were late?"

"Yes, I er," said Hermione, playing with her fingers and blinking nervously at the floor, "I was dealing with a few misbehaving students."

"Ah, thank you for doing your duty, Hermione." At this, Hermione felt instantly happy because she thought she was no longer in trouble. She shot a gloating look at Draco. He replied by not changing his expression.

"That's not what it looked like when you were chatting with the freak peacock." Draco said.

"I was just lost, Malfoy. I asked for directions…How did you know that?"

His eyes gestured to the wall behind her. She turned and, to her horror, there wasn't one. The wall was transparent, she found out when she reached out to touch it. She could see Georgie daydreaming as she was wandering and the boys shouting in protest for one another. She could not hear any of them, though.

"I…"

"Mr. Malfoy, did you not tell her where the compartment was?"

"I assumed she knew, being the insufferable know-it-all she is."

"Mr. Malfoy, I would appreciate it if you would stop insulting her and her friends."

"But you know its true, professor."

"Its rude to talk back to teachers, Mr. Malfoy. Any more of that and I'll be docking points."

"We haven't even started school yet."

"It doesn't matter. You mustn't be acting so rudely."

Hermione sent a triumphant gloating look at Draco. He leered back.

"Now," said Professor McGonagall, "congratulations for being made Head Boy and Girl. The Headmaster and the rest of the staff find you both extremely capable. You will have many great responsibilities as Heads and we know it will be difficult so we you have been given privileges. You can stay up until midnight and can be up as early as 4 o' clock in the morning. However you must spend a large fraction of this extra time patrolling the school. You may deduct however many points you find suitable from any house. You also receive the privilege of receiving extra education about the school. You may get an exclusive tour of the school with Argus Filch, you know, to see how things work and what a professors life is like---"

"How come we never heard of this before?"

"Sadly, not very many Heads choose to use this wonderful opportunity. But knowing you, Hermione," Professor McGonagall smiled at her, "I'm sure you would."

"Oh yes, of course, professor." Hermione said happily as Draco muttered something under his breath. Blaise elbowed him. "So when is this tour?"

"Whenever you want, dear." Professor McGonagall said. "Where was I? Oh yes, we have a new Muggle Studies Teacher. We'd like you two to maybe show her around. To make it easier for you and her, we've enrolled you both and your Auxiliars in her class."

"Pardon me, professor, what is an Auxiliar?"

"You don't know? Oh silly me, I forgot to ask you why you came alone. Draco, did you not tell her?"

"Must've forgotten."

"Well then," McGonagall said frustrated. "The Headmaster wants to create and reinforce Inter-House Unity, and you two are a big part. You will be scheduling house parties and other events. You are also in charge of the events and other things happening during Quidditch matches and such. This will be a challenge and to help you, the Headmaster decided you should each have a helper. You may choose your helper, as Draco has with Mr. Zabini. He or she must be capable as well, do not just choose a good friend."

"What if I chose Harry or Ron?"

"Nice idea, it may improve the relationship between Slytherin, but those two have a very big reputation for rule breaking. So the other Heads of Houses and I probably won't approve."

"Oh."

"Yeah, Granger. Making Potter or Weasley is a death wish for all of you."

"Shut up, Malfoy."

"Why don't you?"

"Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy, stop." Professor McGonagall said reproachfully. "Anyway, the new teacher's name is Jolene Isilee. You will not have much trouble finding her. As for your dorms, you and your Auxiliars will share a small wing. I will show you later." She glanced out the window. "We are nearing the school. Change into your robes. You may all stay in here if you like, but Ms. Granger, I'd like you to find a suitable Auxiliar. Make sure he or she is in sixth or seventh year. I might not be able to check him or her so make a good choice. Ta." Professor McGonagall left the room, to the surprise of the group of boys just outside.

"Did she say the new professor's name was _Isilee_?" asked Hermione.

"Are you talking to me?" Blaise asked hopefully.

"I don't know. That girl out there is named Georgie Isilee. Maybe she's her daughter."

"Yeah well if it is," Draco said, looking at Georgie in disgust, "her mother's probably even more mentally insane than she is. Imagine being taught by her! Oh, if my father even heard about me being in _Muggle Studies_---"

"He won't. He's dead. Arthur Weasley and Xeno Lovegood killed him."

"Shut up!" Draco thundered, making Hermione jump. Looking at the savage anger and sorrow in his eyes, she fled.

As she ran down the hall, she heard Draco say. "I can not believe the guts of that girl…I can not believe the guts of you, Blaise!"


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: There may be typos. I'm not the greatest editor in the world. A beta would be nice. PM me if your interested.**

**Disclaimer: Once I take over the world Harry Potter will be mine! But I don't own him now:(**

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Chapter Two

Hermione knocked twice on the door of her compartment. Someone was in there, obviously, since the curtains were drawn.

"Who is it?" Ginny's voice asked in a muffled tone.

"Harry Potter," said Hermione in a deep voice. There was loud crash and fierce whispers coming from inside. The door swung open, revealing Ginny smoothing down her black robes frantically. She looked up casually and Hermione burst into laughter as she stepped in.

"That wasn't very funny," Ginny pouted.

"Oh yes it was," Hermione said, "I can't believe you actually fell for it!"

"Well…you sounded like Harry."

"Me? Sound like Harry? That's impossible, Ginny. I wasn't even trying." Hermione dumped her book bag on a seat. She then noticed Luna in the corner. She was robed as well.

"Don't do that again," whined Luna as she pulled of the robe. Under it was just her bright blue and orange matching polka-dot underwear. There was also an exotic looking bronze medallion dropping fast her bra.

"What's that?" Hermione asked.

"This?" Luna asked as she slipped on her skirt. "It'll protect me from Maois."

"What?"

"You know, Maois. They're yellow and green parasitic creatures that can cause severe sweating, memory loss, dizziness, and pimples. There's been an outbreak of them in Australia."

"Uh, okay."

"I'm not making this up! My dad wrote about it in his magazine!"

"And I'm sure he had some excellent sources then."

"Oh yeah, ever since he got all famous and stuff people have been sending him letters with information like crazy. The Quibblers selling millions."

"Really, Luna. Don't you think those letters might be mockeries or something?"

"No. Why would people be mocking him? He's even getting fan mail."

"Yeah, okay. Sure," said Ginny, "so what Head related happened, Hermione?" Ginny had a mirror and was combing her silky red hair.

"Well," Hermione said laboriously as she pulled a small bag of clothes from a crammed drawer under the seats. "Unfortunately Draco Malfoy's been made Head Boy."

"Ooh, really?" said Luna who had put on a lovely lavender sweater and was rummaging through a box of accessories. "Oh Gin, could you pass the mirror---thanks." Luna picked out a handful of accessories and put them on as she spoke. "I think Draco's sorta cute."

"Excuse me?" Hermione stammered as she unbuttoned her blouse.

"Well he is."

"No, Luna. He isn't cute," Ginny said. "He is hot."

"Excuse me?" Hermione said again, shocked.

"Aw, admit it, Hermione," said Luna, "He's gorgeous."

"Oh," Ginny said, "and you'll be working together, learning together, living together."

"Ah, how romantic," said Luna dreamily. "Alone together…"

"You guys do look like a good couple," Ginny said, looking at Hermione, "You are both physically beautiful people."

"I'm not."

"Psh!" went Ginny and Luna.

"Merlin, Hermione. You've changed a lot. How could you not notice that? Everyone else has. They're talking about you. About things unrelated to Harry or school. You're damn beautiful and you don't even wear make-up."

"Does anybody ever just ignore looks?" Hermione groaned. "I would no way fit with Malfoy. Besides, we won't even be all alone together. I've got to live with Blaise Zabini too."

"What?" Ginny and Luna asked, astounded.

"You get all the luck, Hermione. It's so unfair." whined Luna.

"Why do you have to live with him, too?" Ginny asked.

"Well, its because," said Hermione, finally putting her robe on, "Dumbledore wants Inter-House Unity. Malfoy and I'll have to plan special school events and stuff. He thinks we might need help so he's allowing us to have helpers called _Auxiliars_. Zabini is Malfoy's Auxiliar."

"Who's yours?"

"I haven't chosen one yet," said Hermione. "Maybe it could be one of you two?"

"I want to be it!" Luna cried. Ginny, however, was silent.

"I don't. I'll be too far from Harry," she said.

"Ugh, Ginny. You're such a stalker." Hermione said. "Okay, Luna. You can be my Auxiliar. You get fairly good grades right?"

"Hon, I'm in Ravenclaw," Luna said, pointing to her Ravenclaw badge, "of course I do."

"Okay, then." Hermione said. "I guess we'll probably have to tell Professor McGonagall soon."

"We might have to do it at school," said Luna, peeking through the drawn curtains, "we're almost there."

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Big black puffs of smoke billowed from the chimneys of the great Hogwarts Express. It gave one last continuing whistle, slowly gained speed, and was off. Hot air was cast behind it, blowing against the forest trees and the emerged students still starting to leave. 

Honey brown curls flew about the forlorn face of Hermione Granger as she stared motionless at the bright red train shrink and disappear behind the dark green forest foliage. Ginny and Luna, who were next to her, couldn't help but notice her lamenting state.

"Hermione," Ginny said as she clapped a hand on her shoulder, "what's wrong?"

"This is my last year at Hogwarts," Hermione murmured almost inaudible among the noisiness of the other students and Rubeus Hagrid's deep shouting.

"Really?" said a voice other than Ginny's but just as familiar. The source revealed itself by stepping out in front of her. "Mine, too! What a coincidence!" It was Harry Potter, and, soon enough Ron Weasley appeared.

"Wow, Hermione, it took us so long to find you guys," said Ron. "Oi, why so sad?"

"She's being _emo _because she's going to miss school." Luna replied.

"'Emo'?" asked Ron. "What does that mean?"

"Emo means extremely emotional. The emotion's usually depression. They get so depressed that they want to hurt or kill themselves. An emo person is a person with hair on their face.They dress in red, black, and gray. They hate everyone especially themselves, they cut themselves especially their wrists, they think hurting themselves is good, they think they have cool hair, they isolate themselves from any un-emo or jolly people….and I think that's it…I think." Luna explained.

"Um…okay," said Harry. "Did your dad tell you that?"

"No, they're on the muggle news. Something about a huge Emo suicide massacre thingy, I dunno. I just watched it to see the pictures. Daddy says they're possessed by Meerinjigglers."

"I'm sure they are… So Emos are just like Goths?" said Ron, rather interested.

"No no no," Luna said, shaking her head. She, Harry, Ron, and Ginny spent most of the trip to the school (on carriages) debating about the difference between Goth and Emo while Hermione sat solemnly quiet.

"Ron, Goth people don't like bright colors like red because they do not hurt themselves and like to see the blood," Ginny said, then she noticed Hermione, who seemed to like her short invisible time. "Hermione?"

Hermione sighed. "My last year and I have to spend it with Malfoy."

"Aw, c'mon, 'Mione," said Ron. "Being Head Girl doesn't necessarily mean you have to always be with the Head Boy." Ron said.

"Yes it does," she said woefully.

"Not _all _the time," said Ron. "Do you have all the same classes with him?"

"Probably."

"Well you can at least try to be away from him. Just be as far as possible from both of the Slytherins and don't make any eye contact. They probably will ignore you too if you're lucky."

"Yeah, and maybe it'll all work out and you could enjoy your last year," said Harry.

"They can't ignore me. They've got to help with all the Inter-House Unity stuff."

"Isn't it possible that you could do it all by yourself? Maybe in secret or something."

"…That's a good idea, but Luna'll be helping me of course," Luna nodded at Hermione's words, "Okay, I'll do it."

"You really think staying away from them is a good idea?"

"Yes, of course it is!"

Hermione and her friends chatted happily about their plans to help Hermione have a good year, after all, it was the last. Soon they approached their beloved school: Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The day had grown very late and now lamps and torches illuminated the castle's many turrets, towers, and other parts of medieval castle architecture. Looking fantastically majestic and great in every way, it appeared dark and mysterious; nevertheless, this castle was their second home. There it stood, magnificent royalty, aging greatly over the years and having some incredible experiences though it looked familiar enough and brought swoops of excitement into the students.

"Fred, George!" called Harry. Fred and George Weasley, the mischievous twins, brothers of Ron, stood leaning against opposite sides of the great doorway Professor McGonagall had lead them through six years ago.

"Hey, Harry," they both replied in unison. Harry and the group stood behind the large group of tiny first years…and a strikingly colored girl about the age of fourteen. They were supposed to follow the rest of the seventh years directly to the Great Hall, but Harry stopped them because he saw Fred and George.

"What're you doing?" called Ron. All the attention of the first years and the other girl were focused on Ron, Harry, and the rest.

"We're about to tell the migits about the houses. Duh?"

"Where's McGonagall?"

"Dunno, went off to talk to some Isee lady. We're takin' the liberty of kindly take the first years to get sorted. They'll be late, you know."

"C'mon, let's go Ron," said Ginny, tugging on his robes. "Who cares about these two ding-dong-heads. _We'll _be late."

"_Ding-dong-heads_?" Fred and George asked. "Why, you couldn't possibly mean _us_? Our dear, sweet sister would never say such a thing like that, would she?" The unsorted ones stared at her, making her blush bright red. "Please stay, Gin. We'd be so honored!"

"Alright then," muttered Ginny. "We can blame them if we get in trouble."

"Okay," started George.

"If you haven't got the brains to know that we're going to tell you about the houses and take you to sorting,"

"We're going to tell you about the houses and take you to sorting!"

"I'm Fred Weasley, co-owner of Hogwarts' Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes and Hogsmeade's Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes."

"And I'm George Weasley, co-owner of Hogwarts' Weasley's Wizard Wheezes and Hogsmeade's Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes."

"First off, how on Uric's jellyfish will you get sorted?"

"Well, Fred, they'll get to put on a gribbly singing hat that'll sort them!"

"Gee, George, what'll they be sorted into?"

"Well, Fred, they'll get sorted into these lovely things called 'houses'. Can you all say 'houses'?"

"Houses," the children said obediently as Fred and George mouthed he words. Ron, Harry, Hermione, Luna, and Ginny just watched, annoyed.

"Excellent!" Fred and George clapped their hands gleefully.

"Righto," said Fred gleefully. "So what are these houses?"

"Fred, how stupid can you be?" George laughed loudly, deeply, and much like one of those cheesy toddler shows (but not like Sesame Street because Sesame Street is awesome). The children laughed along while the older ones rolled their eyes.

"Now who here knows the name of one of the houses?" George asked. Many hands shot up. "Let's see… Hmm, how about you?"

The other hands fell down. A pudgy kid with a baby face answered, "Hufflepuff."

"MmHm, yes. Hufflepuff. We were in Hufflepuff, weren't we Fred?"

"Nope. Why?"

"Because we're special!" Fred and George said. The other houses all saw Hufflepuff as a place for the normal students. A place for those without exceptional courage, brains, or cunning.

"Yes, now. Another, please." The students' hands rose up again. "You."

"Ravenclaw." said a brown haired, bespectacled girl.

"Oh yes!" George said, clapping his hands. "Ravenclaw is where the nerdy kids go. If you're brainy and actually like school, Ravenclaw is for you. Now, another."

"Gryffindor!" shouted several children.

"Yes! Yes! Oh, yes! The best one, of course! Gryffindor, the home of the brave hearted and the cool! That's us, Fred, isn't it?"

"Of course!"

"Now, last and certainly least?"

Someone cleared their throat in the back. All heads turned. Standing next to Hermione was none other than Draco Malfoy. He inattentively dropped something into her hand and took a step forward.

"I hope you don't mean Slytherin, Weasley?" he asked menacingly as he strode to the front.

"Why, what on earth would make you think that?"

"The common jealousy of Slytherins amongst Gryffindors, of course. What else?" Draco shoved Fred and George aside and turned to the crowd. "I'll take over from here. I am, as many of you already know, Draco Malfoy---" Whispering broke out at this. "Many know me as the Slytherin Prince since well, what else would there be better to call me? Now, however, you may address me as the Head Boy of Hogwarts. Slytherin is the _best _house, if you must know, made up of the best students. Over five Quidditch Cup wins in a row and," he chuckled to himself, "who knows how many House Cups. If you are anywhere nearly as perfect as I am, Slytherin is for you. Now, follow me." He turned but soon whirled back. "Ah yes, that girl in the back," the students turned their heads, "yes, the filth with the unruly hair. I'm sure she still doesn't realizing this as well, see the badge in her hand?" Hermione finally looked at the thing he dropped in he had dropped into her hand. It was in fact a golden badge with an H engraved onto it. "She is Head Girl, but don't bother asking her for help. She's helpless herself."

He led the students away.

Only their chatting was heard to Hermione, who was busy shaking the insults out of her head.

"How dare he?"


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Don't forget to put this story on your Story Alert list! **

**I also need a beta.**

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately.**

* * *

Chapter Three

"You guys go," said Harry, "I think I'll have a word with him."

"Not without me you're not," said Ron defiantly. "Gin, you and the girls go to the Great Hall that way," he ordered, pointing to the now empty hallway they were supposed to travel.

"Sorting's almost starting," protested Ginny, she could hear the echoing of Dumbledore's gentle voice booming. "You can have a go at him later."

The quick tapping of their shoes echoed through the long narrow hallway. Finally, after taking a few unnecessary turns because Luna wouldn't budge anywhere near cobwebs in the corners of ceilings or walls (fearing things called Arachnabovines), they finally made their way to the huge doors leading to the Great Hall. The left door was very near closing after a flash of red hair was seen.

"Wait, stop!" Harry cried to the door as he sprinted towards the handle. Luckily, he grabbed the huge ring of iron and was able to pull on it hard enough to make a space large enough for them to slip in.

"…who run the student shop they call 'Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes' on the seventh floor. The store is now located across the entrance to Gryffindor Common Room," Dumbledore said, acknowledging Fred and George Weasley who were walking towards him. Dumbledore noticed Hermione, Ginny, Ron, and Luna hurrying towards the Gryffindor table. "Ah, and these are a few late students," he said kindly, "Our Head Girl, Hermione Granger, and the brother and sister of Mr. Weasleys, all of Gryffindor House. And we have the lovely Miss Lovegood of Ravenclaw, daughter of the editor of The Quibbler." The loud bang of the doors being shut turned heads to see Harry jogging towards the group. "And of course, Mr. Harry Potter, our already well known hero." Most of the students and teachers clapped and a murmur of amazement and awe floated from them.

Harry and the rest smiled as they made their way to their tables. Hermione wondered why Dumbledore was being so boastful. Dumbledore had a patient and peaceful expression on his droopy face. Scanning the row of professors at the high table, Hermione was not only startled to see five new faces, but also to find a large jeweled, sarcophagus like box standing next to Dumbledore who was waiting at his stand. Hermione suspected he was indirectly informing, or rather bragging, to the five new people with the former and about to explain the latter. She was caused to sit up straighter and smile more pleasantly.

"Now, I have some very exciting news for you all, but first I'd like to introduce someone you may have not met before," he gestured towards the beautiful new witch at the table. She had long shiny black curls flowing all around her comely face that was formed into an attractive, serene model-like expression. She was dressed in royal purple robes that draped over her thin body. Expensive-looking jewels hung around her neck, though not as much as Professor Trelawney had, who was seated next to her, gazing at the students with her dragonfly-like eyes.

"Our new Muggle Studies Teacher, Professor Jolene Isilee." Dumbledore finished.

Everyone clapped as Professor Isilee nodded appreciatively. "Also," the headmaster continued, "I welcome Mr. Kingsley Shacklebolt, though I already know most of you know him. He's the minister of magic. He would like to make an announcement as well, so, take it away Kingsley."

Shacklebolt got up from his seat. He went to the stand and magnified his voice with his wand…quite unnecessarily as Dumbledore apparently didn't have to. "Good evening, students of Hogwarts. I am Kingsley Shacklebolt, as you all know, since your headmaster took my opportunity to give my own intro. I suppose I can take his opportunity to tell you all the good news. But first, I'd like you all to acknowledge the wonderful peace bestowed on out world today. How happy I am to have the Dark Lord, aka Voldy, vanquished, gone, away forever along with his cozy group of followers. Yes, now to keep this era of peace as long and prosperous as we can, the Ministry and I as well as the Ministries of Bulgaria, France, China, Africa, Mexico, and the United States have agreed on the bold act of instituting the first ever Universal Wizard Tournament!"

On cue, the sarcophagus transformed, much like it did for the Triwizard Tournament (movie-wise). The students gasped as the magnificent Goblet of Fire was revealed.

Shadows cascaded over the wide-eyed faces of the staff and minister after the inside erupted in sapphire flames. The students all fell silent, marveling at the glorious goblet.

"Ahem," Dumbledore cleared his throat. Not many had noticed Shacklebolt resume his seat at the table and Dumbledore return to the stand. "The Universal Wizard Tournament is much like the Triwizard Tournament. For those of you what don't know what that is, the Triwizard Tournament was a competition between threeof the main wizarding schools in the world. However, the Universal Wizard Tournament is a competition between _seven_ of the most prestigious wizarding schools: Hogwarts of Britain, Durmstrang Institute of Magical Learning from Bulgaria, Beauxbatons Academy of Magic from France, Xing Xainara Academy of Magic (Zing Zainara) of China, Omannebabwe University of Wizarding, Witchcraft, and other Magic Related Wonders from Africa, San Montecuzoma Academy from Mexico, and Tinderoga Scolarium from the United States. Now keep in mind that four of those schools that seem the least familiar are those either only recently established or most likely kept secret from most of the world.

"I suppose you are wondering why no students from these schools have arrived." He was right. Each and every living or dead thing (the ghosts were there and Peeves had postponed his dung bomb stuffing of students trunks ritual) was captivated by the grand news. Most of the students just couldn't contain themselves and were trembling in their seats. "Not to worry. Since their arrivals have been scheduled to be all on the same day the date, sadly, could not be on this day. They will instead be coming on the twenty-ninth of September.

"I must warn you that this year's Welcoming Feast announcements will take a VERY long time. Unfortunately, you can not eat until after, but the actual feasting will take place longer and you are allowed to stay up until eleven tonight. Plus, classes will not start until the day after tomorrow. Hurrah hurray!

Most students cheered, as did some of the teachers (silently, of course)"Well now, who are these people sitting over there?"

The students turned to the table many had been eyeing. It stood before the teacher's and other staff table. Three foreign looking guests sat there, looking as superior and different as double-decker buses are to Americans.

"Miss Ichigo Akinari," Dumbledore announced. The students clapped politely, though Miss Akinari did not seem so overwhelmed. She went gracefully to the stand as Dumbledore stepped back.

"Good evening, Hogwarts," said Miss Akinari in her heavy Chinese accent. "I am Ichigo Akinari of Xing Xianara Academy. I am head healer there and have come in the place of the headmaster to represent our school. I want to tell you that the grounds around the lake will be the temporary home of my students and buildings will be under construction there. It will not disrupt any of your studies at all, fortunately. You may watch our architects work if you like, fill your minds with as much as possible I say. But please, however, do not touch the unicorns…" She bowed and turned to leave, but her jade green Chinese-style silk robes flew up into the air as she quickly turned back and said, "or my dragon!"

The students whispered excitedly to each other. Professor McGonagall shifted uneasily in her seat and squeezed her lips tightly together, _Professor _Hagrid chuckled happily at the students. Professor Isilee clapped, but Professor Snape remained still, carefully keeping an eye on his Slytherins. The teachers had still not seen the dragon, but had heard it roaring in the night and were just as excited about as the students were. It had a distinct roar. Its general species couldn't be determined, but relief was brought as the general suspicion was confirmed true.

"Mister Kovo Ebube!" Dumbledore boomed, drowning out the noisiness.

An old African man dressed in colorful African clothes laughed as he made his way to the stand. "Hello, I am Kovo Ebube!" he said in his heavily accented and very jolly voice. The students somehow knew he was this positive all the time, not because just because of the dragon business. "I am co-headmaster of Omannebabwe University of Wizarding, Witchcraft, and Other Magic Related Wonders. I am very very _very_ joyful and fantasticized to be amidst, within, and hopefully welcomed in your presences. I want to say that my students will be sharing home with the wonderful house you call Pufflyhuff----"

"Hufflepuff!" the Hufflepuff corrected and then cheered and clapped.

"Oh, sorry. Hufflepuff! Yay!" cried Ebube and skipped back to his seat.

The students ceased the thunderous chatting. While the Gryffindors commented the guests, the Slytherins rolled their eyes at Ebube and talked nastily about him. Draco Malfoy scowled the most while Pansy Parkinson agreed loyally to his every word, inching ever so closely to him with an adoring look in her eyes.

"Mrs. Joanne Kathleen Blume." Dumbledore once again successfully shut the students up. A portly, powder blue dressed woman waddled to the stand. "Hi, y'all!" she greeted in her Texan accent.

"Good," the students mumbled.

"Well!" Mrs. Blume shrieked. "Well! 'Good' isn't correct English!"

Most of the students were annoyed, but many Ravenclaws felt foolish.

"Yes well, anyway," continued Blume. "I am Charms professor at Tinderoga Scholarium and I just want you all to know that I am very happy be here and appreciate your hospitality. I'm sure you're all great students and I want you all to do as best you can with school and try not to be so distracted by this Tournament doohicky. But I want you all to have fun. There probably won't be another one for about hmmm I don't know the next hundred years or so? Well, I hope you enjoy everything but don't break any rules. I'm watching you and I've become very good friends with Professor McGonagall. I hear she really likes detentions.

"Fortunately for you we won't be using your grounds to live on. My school has prepared their own living spaces. Yeah and um I think that's it. Thanks for you're time." She smiled sweetly at everyone and returned to her seat.

Dumbledore stepped forward. "Just a bit more information: the Universal Wizard Tournament is made up of five different tasks, not three. It will take place throughout the whole school year. Once again, you must be at least seventeen to compete and, to be fair, no entry submissions until all other school students have arrived. But the Goblet of Fire will be displayed in Meridell Hall which is a mini-museum and information center located in the library. Hmm, we have one last thing before we can finally eat and that is, of course, the sorting!"

Argus Filch, who no one had noticed had disappeared, hobbled down the walkway in the middle of the Grand Hall carrying a stool. Professor McGonagall rose from her seat and brought the esteemed Sorting Hat and a long roll of parchment up front. Dumbledore sat and looked on expectantly. Everyone else did so too, with angry grumbling stomachs and droopy eyelids.

The Sorting Hat was singing its carefully created song; the students were once again captivated, but most seventh years didn't pay attention. They were all huddled inwards over their tables whispering in lively conversation.

"Can you believe it, Draco?" Pansy Parkinson giggled. "A _Universal Wizard Tournament_! Are you going to enter, Drakkie-poo?"

"Yeah, Draco," asked Goyle, "Are ya?"

"I'm going to," Blaise said proudly.

"Of course not, you sad primitive crotch-suckers," hissed Draco. "I'm Head Boy, people. I have way too much responsibility and not at all enough time to even think about the bloody Tournament. And you too, Zabini. What's the matter with you?"

"You chicken, _Drakkie-poo?_" asked Blaise mockingly. "Huh? Chicken?"

"Buck buck buck," went Crabbe. Goyle and the others laughed.

"Just shut it, you blundering baffoons, I'm not afraid. Why would I ever be afraid? Its not like there's any competition. The Bulgarians are as empty-headed as you all are. The French are too fancy-like. I don't expect anything coming from them. Do you remember the veela girl? The Africans…please, they'll be too busy with their trash talking, rap singing, and yo-mamma jokes."

"Draco, those are _American _Africans."

"So, what, Bulstrode? Still pathetic, I mean look at their headmaster. He's gotten himself high on imported drugs or something."

"The drug-dealers are the Mexicans, Draco."

"Bulstrode, why don't you just cram your face with cream puffs or something. I know that. I said _imported_, didn't I?" Draco waved her away. "Anyway, Blume's just faking propriety with her grammar corrections. Americans aren't serious about anything, I mean, 'I want you to have fun'. " He imitated Mrs. Blume in a high, squeaky Texan accent. "And the Chinese! Come on. They place next to last in every international competition!"

"Drake, they place next to first in every international competition."

"Whatever. They still don't win."

"So you're not entering…chicken?"

"Bulstrode, you ---! You know what, just to shut you all up, I will."

"So Harry, you're name going in the Goblet again?" asked Dean Thomas.

"I didn't enter that last time," Harry said angrily.

"Sure you didn't, Harry. Sure you didn't." Seamus said.

"You don't believe me anymore?" whimpered Harry.

"Nah, Potter," laughed Dean. "Just playin'. Hey, that reminds me of the D.A. Good times, my friend. Very good times." Harry was about to tell him some unfortunate news, but Dean struck up a conversation with a reminiscing Neville Longbottom.

"So are you going to enter, Harry?" asked Seamus..

"No he's not," Hermione answered, slamming her hand on the table. "It would be ridiculous," she turned to Harry. "You almost died last time."

"But now Voldemort's gone," Seamus was happy to say. Nobody was afraid to say the name anymore.

"Oh," Hermione sighed. "The Tournament is there to make everyone closer together and it is possible to do that without any Harry Potter."

"Oh, Granger you're such a prude. Be adventurous. You can't possibly be happy with all the excitement ending just because the war ended. Live a little," said Parvati Patil. "As Marie Antoinette would say, let them have cake."

"I think Marie Anoinette was an irresponsible, ostentatious pathetic excuse for a queen. Oh wait! Calling her a queen would be an embarassment to France. If I did that, I'd be insulting myself by posing as one huge… Pansy Parkinson!"

"Don't listen to her, Harry," said Parvati. Hermione glowered at her, then stopped to sulk quietly amid her jumpy classmates. "Marie Antoinette lived one heck of a life."

"She was guillotined!"

"So? Harry gets in trouble all the time. And no matter how hard everyone tries, he just doesn't die! I mean, I we could stab each other right now and he'd walk away unscathed and unpunished. Why, I wouldn't be surpised if he got an award for it."

"Harry. Harry. Harry." chanted Ginny.

"Harry. Harry. Harry." the Gryffindors chanted quietly. Hermione was still sulking, ready to tear out Parvati's hair and just blame it on Harry. She had to admit, it was true.

"Ugh."

"Er, yeah okay! I'll do it!" Harry announced with a goofy grin.

"Gee, Susan," said Hannah Abbot, "This is all so exciting."

"Yeah, Hanna," said Susan Bones, "Did you hear? Justin Finch-Fletchey said he heard the Slytherins talking about Draco Malfoy entering."

"No, I didn't. But that can't be good. The Gryffindors are talking about sending Potter."

"Oh that can't be good…but that Ebube guy sounds so nice."

"Yeah, he does, doesn't he? If nobody from Hufflepuff gets into the Tournament, I'm definitely rooting for Africa."

"Traitor." Susan said playfully. The two girls giggled.

"Cho! Hey, Cho!" Padma Patil called. Cho Chang turned. Some of the seventh years of last year had returned to Hogwarts because they felt they didn't get a good enough education from last year because of the war.

"Mmm?"

"Guess what I heard."

"Knowing what you hear, I'd say it wasn't true."

"Oh you're gonna like this."

"Floor's all yours, Padma." she sighed.

"No, he's not," Luna said, "he's already told me how much he dreaded the Triwizard Tournament. He's not going to enter this one."

"Ah, but Draco Malfoy's going to try and get in too."

"No. No no no. Hermione wouldn't ---"

"I think she lost." Padma pointed to the Gryffindor table.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: This has nothing to do with the story but I have found something very, VERY disturbing. For those who have read Stephenie Meyer's _Twilight_, the guy who played Cedric Diggory will be playing Edward Cullen!!! I am shocked and appalled. What's worse is the girl playing Bella. I am depressed now.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

Chapter Four

"Adams, Holly?" Professor McGonagall called, heralding an instant hush from the students. A short sandy haired girl with freckles and rectangle glasses self-consciously walked to the stool, whispering to herself and trying in vain to scrunch her mouth up to not smile. She was blushing bright red as she sat down facing the expectantly onlooking students.

"Hmm…" The Sorting Hat thought for a second on her head. "Smart girl, smart girl. Do you know anything of the a ancient study of Numerology? Because you, I see, are the perfect model of the Number 4...Holly Adams, you say? My my, the stars have been known to mislead I suppose…" He thought for a moment, smiled, and shouted, "Hufflepuff!"

Holly Adams clumsily but happily ran to the Hufflepuff table amidst the jubilant cheers of the Hufflepuffs.

"Bismarck, Janine?" A tall girl with a lazy look and high powdered cheeks gracefully went over and sat with her legs crossed on the stool.

"Oh, a bit devious and very clever I see. You have a heart, maybe? Oh, Slytherin!" With a flip of her hair, Janine was at the Slytherin table, already making her place in between the older students, and close to the Slytherin majesties.

"Chang, Rika?" A young girl who looked creepily clone-like to Cho Chang, but smaller, approached the stool.

"I know where to put you. Ravenclaw!"

"Damarion, Alexander?" The terrified crowd of first years parted and Alexander Damarion walked casually, glanced at the older students, and lazily dropped himself onto the stool.

"Ah… Raised well, quite intelligent, and… hmm… That's right, Slytherin!"

Three students were sorted into Ravenclaw, five in Ravenclaw, three into Gryffindor, and four into Hufflepuff.

"Isilee, Georgie?" The vividly colored girl walked with an airy step to the stool as other students whispered.

The weary looking hat dropped onto her head and promptly lit up. It laughed hoarsely and said, "Make your house proud. Gryffindor!" The Gryffindors cheered and clapped as she sat down at the table. She settled herself across from Ginny Weasley, who greeted her warmly and congratulated her. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil whispered a few things to each other and then brightly addressed her.

"I'm Ron Weasley. Welcome to Gryffindor!"

"Neville. Longbottom. Neville Longbottom. I'm Neville Longbottom."

"You're Professor Isilee's daughter, aren't you?" asked Hermione, glancing up at Professor Isilee who was looking their way and clapping. She looked pleased, proud, and yet still stiff faced. Gorgeous."Yup, I am," replied Georgie.

"That's very nice, Georgie. Anyway, what year are you going to be in?"

"Fourth."

"Oh, but you don't look…"

"Yeah, I know, but I really am fifteen." The two chatted about random things and Hermione discovered that the character of Georgie was quite a normal one. She was not awkward like Ron, nor was she so overly confident and a bit forceful like Harry. She reminded her of Ginny, so young and naïve. She thought, from the look of her clothes, that she would somehow act eccentric like Luna; however, Georgie did not once mention anything quite as bizarre as Arachnabovines or Maois. Finally, she thought, somebody down to earth like me.

"So what about your mother?" asked Hermione.

"Well, she--- hey, Sorting's over." Looking up, Hermione saw Dumbledore at the stand, smiling with his usual twinkling eyes.

"And finally, our feast!" Dumbledore clapped his hands twice and scrumptious food magically appeared on the golden silverware, filling the Great Hall with the delicious smells of roast beef, gravy, ham, mashed potatoes, pasta, pumpkin juice, and other foods. The piping steam swirling into the air only assisted in the tremendous warmth now overcoming the joyous building, as the students showed amusement and felicitousness in every which way they could: laughing, talking randomly about random things, and hungrily digging into their food.

"So about your mother?" asked Ron. He had just been staring at her.

"Ron," said Hermione reproachfully.

"Fine, gosh---Hey, Harry, what're you gonna do about Quidditch?"

Hermione leered at him, then turned back to Georgie, who was munching on corn. "Don't mind him. He doesn't know anything about being courteous or privacy or anything of that sort."

"I can see that," said Georgie, who was watching Ron steal a piece of chicken from Ginny's plate. "Okay, so my mother's a teacher."

"Obviously."

"Well, she never really wanted to be one. She always wanted to be this muggle thing… I forgot what it was called… Oh yeah, a director!"

"You mean those people who make movies?"

"Movies, yep. She's got a whole bunch of these camera things stored away at our house in Paris."

"You lived in Paris? What about your dad?"

"He…he divorced my mum, said she was too crazy and took my brother and left."

"I'm so sorry."

"Nah, don't be. I was two at the time and my mum was like twenty. Really young, you know. So we moved to Beauxbatons, where she taught Charms."

"Then what happened?"

"I don't know, actually. She told me they fired her and she never wants to go there again. I began learning magic from my aunts and uncle while my mother supported us by working as a muggle model thing. She just loves those flashy camera things. Doesn't really care what those people put her in to flaunt."

"Wow."

"Yes, wow. But she's still my mum and loves me so I love her."

"That's wonderful, Georgie." Hermione was still upset over her losing her parents. They were not killed of course, just brainwashed by her own hand. They were somewhere in Australia, having the time of their lives.

But Hermione wasn't jealous. She knew better than to be jealous. Georgie was going to be her friend.

"Enough about me, what about you?"

"Um er. Me?" Hermione asked, moderately taken by surprise. "Well, I---"

"Granger," a venomous voice rumbled from behind. Hermione turned to see Draco Malfoy towering over her, casting a superior shadow over her and her friends.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" said Harry defensively.

"None of your business, Potter," Draco hissed. "Come on, Granger. McGonagall's wanting us."

"Leave her alone, Malfoy," said Ron.

"And _what_ are you to tell me what to do?" Draco questioned as he and Ron glared at each other hatefully.

"Why I ought to---" started Ron when another shadow was cast. The handsome Blaise Zabini had appeared, already with a look of malice on his face.

"Oh look it's Zabini, the ferret's protégé with a gold-digging whore for a mother," said Harry.

"Excuse me?" Blaise asked, taking a violent step towards Harry.

"Don't even think about it, Zabini," said Hermione, pushing him away.

"Well, the little mud---"

"Enough, Blaise. Hermione, get whoever was so ill-fated to be Auxiliar to you."

"Only if you get away from my friends."

"'Only if you get away from my friends,'" mimicked Draco in a high-pitched, squeaky voice. "Hurry up, Granger."

Hermione shoved Blaise's side as she went past them towards the Ravenclaw table, where Luna Lovegood was busy explaining something to Cho Chang.

"Luna, come on, McGonagal's calling us." Luna immediately got up and said good-bye to Cho.

"So what's this about?" asked Luna as they started towards Blaise and Draco. As soon as they saw them coming they started towards the exit.

"I don't know, McGonagall told Malfoy first again."

"Why does she always do that?"

"I don't know and I don't like it."

They followed Draco and Blaise up a flight of stairs and turned to the entrance of the library. Professor McGonagall was there waiting, tapping her foot and checking her pocket watch. "Right on time, Draco, Hermione. Good job. And Miss Lovegood, will you be Hermione's Auxiliar?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"How nice. Very well then, I will now be taking you to your new home. Follow me." Professor McGonagall turned and led them through the doors of the library, which happened to be closed. Hermione and Draco lit their wands at the same time as they followed Professor McGonagall through the dark walkways of the library, turning and switching through the maze of bookshelves.

"Make sure you keep track of where we're going." This startled Hermione, who's eyes were busy wandering about the stacks, piles, and shelves of various looking books. She stopped in front of a large bookshelf second the left of he northeast corner of the library.

"You can call this the door to the 'Second Restricted Section'" Professor McGonagall said. "Now watch closely." She turned around and pulled out her wand. She pointed it at the book in the middle of the middle shelf. She flicked her wand back, pulling out the book halfway. A loud lurch was heard. The books shifted, the wooden planks separating the shelves sank back, the books slanted flat and, like some complicated puzzle, slid their way to the left, the right, the top, and the bottom sides and disappeared somewhere. They revealed a large shiny brass door with intricate designs surrounding and even more complicated looking lock. Professor McGonagall pointed to the lock. "The password is _detego detectum_!" At the sound of the password the door slowly swung open.

They all gasped. There was a room almost identical to Gryffindor Common Room. It was a circular room with a strange looking circular fireplace standing in the very center. Fire already crackled inside it. Comfy red armchairs surrounded it; mushy bean chairs were scattered around as well. Mahogany tables stood with flower vases filled with blood red roses on top. The rug was ruby red and part of the wall was lined with more towering bookshelves that almost reached the ceiling. Above the bookshelves were many portraits of battling knights and horses, ferocious beasts such as dragons and griffins, and kings and queens. Golden tassels hung from gold lined table covers and chairs. Medieval style lamps flickered triumphantly in the far darkness, for the room was quite large, maybe even double the size of Gryffindor Common Room. Before them were huge crystal windows. The red and gold curtains flowed gallantly down. Shining swords and suits of armor were displayed in glass cases. The whole room looked so majestic.

"Why is everything so Gryffindor?" asked Draco in disgust.

"Oh you can change things if you want. Our decorator was new and was from Gryffindor, so naturally…"

"I don't want anything to change," said Luna dreamily. "It's so beautiful…did you check for Ghelpers? Jongles? Arachnabovines?"

"What?"

"Nothing, Professor, she said nothing," Hermione said. "Its perfect."

"Well, I don't think so," Draco raised his wand.

"Please don't, Draco," said Professor McGonagall, "at least until after you've seen everything."

Draco stowed away his wand and shoved his hands inside his pockets, giving everything about the room a disapproving look.

"This is your common room," said Professor McGonagall, "oh, but don't worry. You can still always go to your former common rooms and such. You are also allowed to have friends over whenever you like. Now, I'll leave now. I've got to make sure everything's in order at Gryffindor house. I trust you can work everything fine. The portraits are very helpful you know. Ta." She waved an started off, but then turned back. "Beejee?"

Hermione, Draco, Blaise, and Luna all looked at her strangely until a tiny house elf clad in an old pillow case scurried over and bowed in front of Professor McGonagall. "Yes, ma'am?" Beejee squeaked.

"This is your house elf: Beejee," Professor McGonagall told them all. She then switched to Beejee. "Beejee, you have also have a Ravenclaw master."

"Oh yes, ma'am. I'll take cares of its right away." Beejee bowed once to Professor McGonagall, turned, bowed to Draco, Hermione, Luna, and Blaise, and then fled behind a door. It was on the far left of the room and 'Head Girl' was carved into it. On the opposite side of the room was a door identical to it, only with 'Head Boy' carved in. There was a staircase leading to a floor above and one below. Hermione's new home was much bigger than she thought.

"This is just so utterly wonderful, professor. Marvelous, really. Thank you!"

"Don't mention it, Hermione darling," Professor McGonagall said as she left the room.

The door shut closed. Listening to the echo of it ringing through the grand room, Hermione realized how great her year would be. The teachers still loved her. She had this awesome suite with more to explore. There would be a wizards' tournament and even with the scary chances of death and the terrible thought of Harry entering, there was so much she could learn out of it. She had never even heard of Tinderoga Scholarium, Xing Xainara, or Tinderoga Scholarium. She'd never even heard of an established ministry in Mexico, let alone a school.

"'This is just so utterly wonderful, professor!' Draco mimicked.

"'Marvelous, really!'" Blaise added.

"Shut it, Malfoy," Hermione said angrily.

"'Don't mention it, Hermione darling'" said Draco, ignoring her.

"Honestly, Granger. Your look changed but you're still the same. Still the same brainy, kiss-up teacher's pet," said Blaise.

"Told ya so," whispered Draco. Blaise nodded shamefully.

"Ah, cheer up, Blaise!" Draco patted him on the shoulder. "We won't let the incredibly impossible Gryffindor prude or the deranged serial killer spawn interfere with our lives this year. C'mon." He turned to the Head Boy marked door and set off. Blaise followed.

"Oh, I just cannot believe them," Hermione groaned, rubbing her face irritatingly.

"Neither can I. You they've gotten infected by something? Think the Mufflers got him?"

"Um, no." Hermione sighed. "And we've got to do something about Beejee. How cruel!"

"Easy, Hermione. They like serving us, you know. Come on, maybe a tour of the suite'll loosen you up." Luna took her arm and led her through the Head Girl door.

They ended up almost crashing into a blank wooden wall. The space was dark and crammed and on either sides were portraits.

"Goodness!" a surprised and tired old lady's voice said.

Hermione cast a light spell to see an elderly woman with an dirty gardening clothes on and an overgrown rabbit in her arms. "Sorry, ma'am. I'm the new Head Girl, Hermione Granger, and this is my Auxiliar, Luna Lovegood."

"Hermione and Luna. Okay. I'm Henrietta and this fellow here," she was indicating the rabbit, "is Norman."

"Oh please, Henrietta. You named the thing?" said a voice from behind. Luna and Hermione turned to see another lady in the other portrait. She was about the same age as Henrietta but plumper. A huge radish with a huge bite out of it was in her arms.

"What else was I supposed to do, Rosemary? There's nothing more interesting to do anyway."

"Whatever," Rosemary muttered. "I'm Rosemary Higgins, the official keeper of this portrait and whatever is beyond it. Since I am in a good mood and I trust you, I'll let you both be present as whoever is going to live behind me thinks up the password. Hurry, though. I don't stay cheery for long."

"This is your cheery mood?" Hermione asked the bossy woman disbelievingly.

"Yes it is. And will you be living in this room behind me?"

"Uh, well we really don't know who's room is who's."

"Well, Beejee just came and changed all the colors from red and gold to blue and bronze in the room behind me. So whichever one of you is from Ravenclaw probably will be staying there."

"That's me," said Luna. "Um, how about Crumple-Horned Snorkack?"

"Crumple-Horned what?"

"Crumple-Horned Snorkack, its my password."

"Very well," Rosemary sighed. The portrait door swung open. "Come in."

Hermione and Luna climbed into a large room. The carpet was navy blue and the wall was draped with blue and bronze sheets. There was a huge bed with blue and gold pillows and many layers of blankets. The Ravenclaw crest was stitched into pillows and the top blanket. The canopy was also Ravenclaw-themed. A nicely sized writing desk stood amidst many more bookshelves. A solid bronze armoire was next to two huge bronze dressers, each with their own mirrors. Jewelry boxes, make-up boxes, and perfume bottles were on top of the dressers along with gift baskets filled with all sorts of things. Beautiful lamps shone on the bedside tables while a bountiful supply of unlit candles were tied up and crammed into an open and beautiful crate. There were cushions and fancy looking chairs in the room, too. The minute house elf Beejee was standing at a birdstand struggling to carry two cages. A white dove was cooing softly in one cage and a mighty eagle was eyeing the dove in the other.

"P-Professor McGonagall has supplied you with a mail bird. Which one does miss wish?" Beejee raised up the cages as Luna went over to inspect them.

"Doves are lucky, but their droppings attract all sorts of creatures. The eagle represents my house so I choose it." Luna unburdened the elf as she took the eagle. "Thank you very much, Beejee."

"This is such a nice room, Luna," said Hermione, reading the titles on the spines of the many books.

"I have a walk-in closet!" squealed Luna. "Oh and I bet you've got two closets in your room…and a bathroom!--- Hey where does this lead to --- WOW!!!"


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

"Ha ha, loser," snickered Luna devilishly. "I've got a bathroom with a pool."

"Luna, that's a bathtub."

"Really, I thought that was the bathtub," Luna said, pointing to a large metal tub with several snake shaped nozzles. It was, in fact, a sink, and there were others just like it.

A stone domed ceiling towered above the pool-sized bathtub in the center of the humongous room. The pool was already filled with crystal clear water. An extravagant fountain guzzled in the center, yet the glassy surface of the rest of the pool was still. Light steam conditioned the temperature, reflecting off the stone surfaces and many statues. Painted snakes on the tile wall coiled around the perimeter, stopping to hiss with bared dagger-like teeth. They weren't real but sharp hisses echoed throughout the bathroom. A stone chandelier with dim flares illuminated the room, but left mostly darkness in the flawless mirror situated above only one sink.

"I get the sink with the mirror," called out Draco. He was just entering the gothic-style room. Blaise came in next, brows furrowed and childishly upset. Apparently they weren't as impressed as the two less wealthy girls.

"Why is their only one mirror?" He whined, stepping in front of the mirror to check his hair. "This could have been a perfect bathroom, but it's missing the most important part!"

"You're right, Zabini," said Hermione. "No toilets."

"Over there," Draco said. He pointed to a single stall shoved to the side. Blaise went over to go check.

"Well, no mirror, but there's a toilet. A tiny girl toilet… Me first," he got into the stall and shut the door. "Oi, a little privacy?"

"You've already got a door," Draco said. He was at the pool, skimming the water's surface with his fingers.

"Urgh," Blaise suddenly sounded sick, "I don't feel so good. I really think I should ---"

"Ugh, gross, Blaise!" Draco sped out the room, through a black wooden door. There was another right next to it, and Hermione suspected it belonged to Blaise.

"We have to share a bathroom with guys?! Do you know how unlucky that is?" Luna was horrified. Hermione, on the other hand, knew nothing of bathroom superstitions. She ignored Luna and went to observe a stunning onyx thestral. Just then a sickening groan came from Blaise. The girls screamed and headed to Luna's door. They missed and ran into the one next to it.

"Wow," gasped Hermione. The bedroom was just like Luna's except bigger and Gryffindorish: red and gold and pictures of lions everywhere. She had a big open space around a large mahogany table.

"Not fair," Luna pouted, plopping onto Hermione's bed.

"Luna, my room's just like yours except for the extras I need."

"Hey, is someone in there?" A muffled voice came from the other door. Hermione opened it. "Oh, Henrietta!"

"You see? That's the only problem with this place. You can get to each other's room through the bathroom! Well, what's the point of a portrait like me here then? There isn't one! I should be out somewhere in the halls. The Passage Room'd be good enough, too! The architecture of this thing is terrible, I say."

"Passage Room?"

"Oh yay, another room to check out! How do we get there?"

"Well, Miss Lovegood, you'd use the staircase in the Common Room," Henrietta huffed.

"'Etta, knock it off. You can still visit any portrait in the school," Rosemary said from across the little space between them.

"I know, I know. But still, I'm useless!"

"I know that, too," replied Rosemary. She bent down to drop her radish. "C'mon. Into the Common Room."

"Okay," said Rosemary. She was in a portrait of an old king who was sleeping in his throne. "Something's wrong with this guy. I suspect that powerful sleeping potion did this. Anyhoo," the portrait was near the spiral staircase and she pointed to it, "go down. Go up and you'll find yourself going up and up forever. Strange magic, you know. Keep away from there."

So, the girls went down. The came into a room full of portraits. All hung on the walls of the circular room and each the size of doors. These portraits were of frogs. One had two identical frogs on a man's bald head, the one next to it had six frogs on a rock. The background of it was of high snow topped mountains. The other portraits showed frogs varying in number from one to seven. Loud croaking filled the room. Beejee was also there, carrying two cages.

"I thought you'd be here, miss," Beejee said to Hermione. "Master Blaise took an eagle so all I's gotten for you is doves."

"I'll take either one, Beejee," sighed Hermione. "And please take a rest, Beejee. You look tired."

"Hey, Beejee knows you! Dobby had told Beejee about you!" Beejee's eyes narrowed in anger. "Well, Beejee will not! _Not_! Beejee will _not_!" He humphed and vanished. The cages dropped and the doves chirped and fluttered angrily.

Hermione sighed again, staring at the spot he left. She began contemplating, like many times before, on the wrongness of house elves being used for chores without salaries.

"Hermione," sang Luna in her nicely smooth, even ghostly voice. "There's something I think you'll find interesting behind Fabio Flores Cantino-Melendrez."

"Fabio-what?"

"Frog number one," Luna explained, gesturing to the portrait of a single frog nestled in a sea of what looked like shriveled sea weed. Shiny, stringy, wrinkly, and seeming to inch out, entangling themselves even more.

Fabio Flores Cantino-Melendrez wore a Mexican sombrero with colored tassels quivering on the rim with each croak.

"This doesn't surprise me," Hermione mumbled under her breath. Surprisingly, Luna caught it.

"Well, just look at these frogs, Hermione," she said in exasperation. "Look at the cute French hat and lipstick on that one. And the wicked sports car that other one's riding in. And gosh, Hermione! Those three have the most nicely kept blonde afros! These frogs have _charisma_! They have _pizzazz_! _Sparkle!_ I mean, a frog with _flavah _like that without a name is… is just so _incomplete_!"

"Don't explode on me, Luna," Hermione said to the gasping Luna. "Just show me what's behind Fabio and maybe we'll get to see what I.M. Fresh the Pimp is hiding."

Luna caught her breath as they slipped behind the portrait door.

What they thought was open space turned out to just be the dark, solid texture of a tapestry. It startled the two girls, who almost tore it down as they fell to the cold, hard floor.

"Where are we?" Luna repeated after the very thought Hermione had.

"Um," Hermione blinked to adjust her view, "we're on the first floor… I think."

"First floor? Oh, then that wall is the back of the staircase, right?"

"Yes. I wonder why they don't keep any lights on here, what with the staircase being so easy to trip over. And that frightening wind whistling through the glass windows --- Filch!" Without a second to think, Hermione jerked the both of them back through the portrait.

They ended up on their bottoms. Quite conveniently, the croaking in the bright Passage Room steadied their pulses.

"We almost got ---"

"Hermione," Luna said calmly, "what would Filch do? You were supposed to be searching the school. Now he's probably gonna come over here to check on us, all rattled and confused. I suppose he'll start complaining how we somehow disturbed Mrs. Norris."

Luna paused to wait for the portrait to open. But lax Fabio showed no suggestive signs. He just flopped back to take a nice siesta on the comfy looking sea weed.

"Right," Hermione replied sheepishly.

"Okay, time for I.M. Fresh!"

Hermione was about to disagree when something stopped her.

"Miss Granger?" They twisted around to a new voice from behind. A stout looking woman in rough looking pajamas under an exposing cloak stood in front of the portrait with the French-hat-wearing frog. This lady was cleaner than one the girls knew, but she undoubtedly the same.

"Professor Sprout!" Hermione said her emotions different from Luna's, which for some reason still calm. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, just passing by. You wouldn't expect a place like this all for yourselves, now would you?"

The girls shook their heads.

Professor Sprout smiled warmly and continued. "This is some place you've got here, isn't it? I don't know if you haven't found out before, but this isn't what the former Head Boy and Girl Dorm was."

The girls nodded, understanding. They did notice their new home too be a bit much. Hermione felt sickened, thinking they had better luxury than the teachers, even with the extra roommates. But now she could feel relieved, if not offended by how easily others could enter what she thought to be private.

"No, don't worry, dear," Professor Sprout said, "these passages require passwords too. The one behind me is 'harmonica'. Ironic, but all for the better. That one behind you you'll have to watch out for. He's a lazy one. You didn't use a password."

"No."

"MmHm. The password's 'Where's Waldo?' Don't ask me, though. I didn't make these up. Maybe the other portraits will help you with the others. Right now I don't have the time. I have some news for the headmaster. Good night, dears." She left through I.M. Fresh.

"How nice," Hermione grumbled.

"Well at least now we know what to expect down here. So now we won't have heart attacks when we see Snape sulking through here when we're _inappropriate."_

"Ha." By this time Hermione was getting drowsy, even to worn out to explore the rest of her lavish manor-like home.

"So we're not gonna check behind I.M. Fresh?"

"Am I really that readable?" Hermione laughed bitterly.

"Like a book. Well, I suppose I should go, too. Tomorrow, I think I'll go to the forest with Neville or something. The statues in the bathroom made me miss the thestrals." The two helped each other up. With many yawns, they crept to their rooms, not even relishing the fact that they hadn't bumped into the Head Boy or his auxiliar on the way.

Hermione had drifted away into a dreamless sleep in the most comfortable bed she'd slept in. She was entirely relaxed, the success of her mind warding off any thoughts of Draco adding to the loveliness.

Then… Draco.

There he was on the train, new looks, new hair, new attitude --- speaking to the first years, knowing what he was doing, talking of her, such a model for the younger. She had caught him listening to Dumbledore, focused, mature --- then sorting, giving the new ones a look to remind them who's boss --- the feast, the younger Slytherins looking at him with idolizing eyes, the seventh years rendering him as the main social subject, the _prince_. So they teased him. Yes, but only those truly, or seemingly, close to him. Other treated him with respect.

And then…

It was the prince running his finger over the water. Ever so gently, barely making ripples. He seemed… _peaceful_.

That was a Draco Hermione had never seen before. That was a Draco at ease. Calm and relaxed. That mischievous, diabolical gleam in his eye replaced by a soft, smooth periwinkle blue. Faint blue that matched the water. But his eyes were blue, without the silver that represented his metallic, powerful self.

She couldn't get enough of this Draco. She scarcely remembered actually looking at him. Maybe this was a trick. Her mind was playing demon, plaguing her with visions of angels.

_Angels_, her tiny, lingering conscious part shrieked. Surely she wouldn't associate _him _with _angels_!

That little part fought. Fought to erase those thoughts as it did before. There he was jeering with his fellow Slytherins, her enemies. There he was cruelly ignoring the younger ones. Draco by the pool was gone. They were at the train. He was taunting her. His hurtful words grew louder and louder.

She was squirming in her blankets, sweat gluing her shirt to her, moistening her forehead and her hair. Tears formed, stinging her eyes. Her face was overheating. He was shouting. She was screaming. He was closing in on her. He gripped her shoulders, squeezing her so hard as if to break her. He was capable.

His eyes were dark. A beautiful oceanic blue. As the background grew dark, silver molten shadows swirled in his brilliant orbs. He was hardly human. He was nothing but a beautiful, god-like _demon_.

He started chuckling. He was laughing. He was cackling like he did those many years. And during those six painful years, the many times she, Harry, Ron, and even the Dark Lord had stood up to him. Those times when he was the one with consequences. Harsh consequences. Pain. Those times were erased. Or rather unobtainable. All she could think of was him. Him and the pain.

"GRANGER!"

Hermione woke up. A quiet, wheeze-like scream escaped her mouth, which she realized was now aching.

Her eyes still weren't focused, but when they were… Draco was there, his pale face right up to hers, the whites of his eyes glinting in the paler moonlight. He had on an expression that was neither fear nor anger. It was a pleading look but with a force, an expectancy.

"Dammit, Granger. What is the matter with you?"

"I… I…" She was still gasping for air, breathing in the sweet, musky scent of Draco, bringing flaming heat to her cheeks.

She planned to say something, but didn't know what to say. She'd just sputter and humiliate herself even more. But before she could do that, Draco released her shoulders, which he had been shaking her with. He took her numb arms and hoisted her up so that she was upright on her bed. He stopped leaning on it and pulled her more. Her legs were lead and she could still feel them aching.

"Get _up_," he urged. He slid his hands up her arm to her shoulders again, but something sent an electric bolt surging through her and she scrambled up.

He was looking up at her with an unknown emotion. The moonlight revealed curiosity aflicker somewhere. The moon only illuminated strands of her hair for him, but trickling tears glittered down her cheek, the cause of the other part of his emotion. It wasn't anger and it wasn't an urge to mock. If he laughed she would just die.

"H-Hermione?"

She clambered down and pushed off the bed. She sniffled and wiped away the tears violently. She forced her sleeping muscles awake to straighten herself and her sleeping clothes. More pangs of pain came with the process of regaining body and mind.

"What," she wavered quietly. She swallowed and in a suddenly angry voice uncoordinated with her expression, "What do you want?"

He cleared his voice. "I came to get you to patrol with me and I found you screaming and battling some invisible monster. We have to go. It's already past ten thirty and we still have to meet Filch. C'mon, let's _go._"

He was dragging her out the door to the library. She only had enough time to grab her cloak and stumble into her flats.

He was storming along the walkway in the library. She was trailing far behind, swinging her cloak onto her freezing body.

She could hear her tired panting as she neared him, but couldn't hear him. He seemed to be gliding, quiet and thoughtful, and probably still thinking about her.

She didn't like that.

"Why are we taking this route? Couldn't we have just used the Passage Room?" Hermione began, trying to start a conversation. As uncommon as this was, it was nothing compared to him thinking about her without that trademark smirk. If he was thinking up an evil prank or cursing her, he'd be smirking.

Surprise came upon his face.

"Excuse me?"

"The _Passage _Room?" she said, thinking he had misheard her. But he remained silent, so she explained. "You know that room downstairs of the Common Room?"

"No, sorry," he said, strangely polite, "I never went down there. We up and ---"

"There's some kind of new magic there, according to Rosemary, Luna's portrait keeper."

He contemplated that, then spoke again as they exited the library. They were both walking effortlessly over the floors of the second floor. "Oh yeah, Rosemary. The other one's Henrietta? She wouldn't let me in so I had to go through the bathroom. Pretty sweet, huh?"

"I don't think so," Hermione grumbled. "One of the major flaws in the architecture. I should have somebody get that fixed."

"No, not _that_. I was talking about the bathroom. I mean, that bathroom had to be one of the nicest I'd ever seen. It's like the one at my house."

"But I can imagine the one at your house would have a decent supply of mirrors."

"Well…yes, but Blaise and I found the stash hidden under some loose tiles."

"That's a strange place to find mirrors. How did you come across them?" Hermione hadn't intended on have a conversation this friendly. She felt the need to ask questions; part of her wanted to avoid awkward silences.

"I tricked Blaise into letting me have his mirror. Then he went into a frenzy looking for another one. He can be very compulsive when he wants to be."

Hermione laughed. She didn't notice him stiffen next to her.

"Er --- yes, well," he began as they neared the top of the staircase on the first floor. "Watch your step."

"Hold on, I'll get my wand," Hermione said and reached into her cloak. She froze suddenly. "Oh no!" she uttered, horrified. "My wand, I left it!"

Draco rolled his eyes and sighed as she frantically searched her cloak and turned to see if she dropped it. "I've got mine. _Lumos_!"

Hermione climbed down by the rail, the steps only dimly lit as she distanced herself from him. A cloud of shame floated invisibly over her.

Draco was silent too. Silently gloating.

"Late," Argus Filch spat.

"We're sorry, sir. We had a bit of… trouble at the suite. It won't happen again."

"It better, not, Mister Malfoy. I'd expect better from _you_."

Hermione became worried when Filch didn't throw a glance at her. But she didn't get into trouble with him…lately.

"I don't have time to give you a lecture. I hope you two understand the act of _patrolling the whole school_."

"Will we check with you later?"

"You won't have to. Mrs. Norris can tell me if you're doing your job." Mrs. Norris crept behind Filch, her blood red eyes glowing. She purred she while she slipped in and out around his feet, not taking her eyes of Draco or Hermione. "Off you go," Filch dismissed menacingly and stalked off.

Hermione was still worrisome.

"Oh, come on, Granger," Draco groaned, annoyed. He grabbed her arm and gestured to walk.

When they were on their way, Hermione suddenly felt better. There was one of those silences that were and what they were supposed to be. If she spoke now, that would be awkward.

"It's not like anybody has never had a nightmare," Draco said.

He startled Hermione and she wasn't able to understand. "What?"

"Granger, it's nothing to worry about. It's like a bad mark. It's no big deal. You'll forget about it sometime… That is, unless that _was _what you were dreaming about. In that case, I wouldn't be surprised, but very, very creeped out."

"What? My nightmare? Just drop it. I--- I already forgot about it anyway."

"You see? No need to worry."

"Okay then," Hermione said quietly, trying to end the conversation. Draco's sudden sympathy was too novelty for her liking.

They were wandering the third floor when Draco stopped waving his glowing wand around. "Granger, I _am _curious…"

"I-I was dreaming about… er… flying."

"You were dreaming about flying?" Draco asked wryly. "What, you're afraid of heights?"

"No… I am afraid of…falling."

"MmHm," he drew his wand closer to her face, observing her expression more thoroughly. "And I suppose I pushed you off a broom or something."

"What makes you think you had any part in it?"

"Oh nothing. Nothing except you screaming my name over and over again." He chuckled. Mockingly and intentionally loud, he shrieked, "_Draco! Draco! Draco!_"

"Wha ---? No! No no no, that did _not _happen! Draco you are ---"

He stopped laughing. Hermione burned a scarlet red that would put Ron to shame.

"Ahem," he said, clearing his throat and squeezing out a last laugh, "where was I? Ah yes, _Draco! Draco! Draco!_"

"You're making it up, Malfoy. I would never ---"

"Oh but you would. You could. You should. C'mon, join me. _Draco! Draco! Draco!_"

Anger and humiliation leaked out in the form of tears. With a pained screech and a hard stomp, she ran away into the darkness.

Hermione lay curled up in a ball, clutching her stomach to keep from throwing up. She was in the middle of a moving staircase, facing up toward the escalating steps. Her tight ball was wobbling and threatened to roll down and shatter on the grounds some two stories away.

The staircase lurched. She instinctively gripped one of the poles under the railing and stilled herself. The staircase slowly drifted and assembled on the fourth floor.

"Hermione?" She heard Draco's voice in the distance. A tiny dot of white light grew in the darkness. Footsteps paced faster and Draco's weary voice grew louder. "Hermione?"

She reluctantly lifted her head. Her eyes were sore and her face was tight from dried, salty tears. Her arms and legs ached, her clothes were wet, and she felt groggy again, like when you first wake up in the morning. She already missed being woken in the _morning _rather than at ten-thirty at night.

"Ugh. Granger," Draco growled. He let out a deep breath full with relief. He offered a hand to her, eyes not meeting hers. They were tired from searching a place overrun with darkness. His shoulders were slumped and his head hung.

Seeing him weak, she felt the need to make up for all those times she didn't come up with comebacks. "Don't you mean _Hermione_?"

The expression on his face was priceless.

"You know what, _Granger_?" He jerked her up. "I am going to hex you into the next ice age in the next universe! It'll be eons before I ever see you in hell."

He shook the light out of his wand. Promptly, the tip lit up again, glowing a brilliant scarlet.

"You don't have the guts, _Draco_," Hermione scoffed.

"Are you challenging me?" Draco drawled. "_Granger_."

"As a matter of fact, I am," she replied pleasantly, "teasing you's more like it. But, if you prefer a challenge, then I'm all up for it."

"Ha," he scoffed. "Without a wand?"

"Yes. I can take you all by myself with no wand at all." She tapped her head.

"You must me joking," he mused, laughing as he shook out the light.

She glared at him haughtily. She quivered slightly and he was suddenly on the floor, stiff and straight as a board.

His eyes grew wider with fear as she leaned to his face. "Am I?"

She laughed quietly as he struggled to pry his lips open. He threatened her with fierce muffles and a sinister stare.

"What was that, Malfoy? You're _still _going to hex me into the next universe? I don't think so." She leaned back and crossed her arms. "Now, I know I just can't leave you here paralyzed and speechless, though most of the school would object. So before I unbind you I just want to go over a few things. One, you will refer to me as _Hermione_. It's childish to keep on a last name basis, _Draco. _Two, you do not threaten girls. How ignorant of you. Threatening _me_? Three, you do not barge into my room without permission. My door in the bathroom was made only for the entering and exitting purposes of one person and one person only. Misuse of that door leads to problems and problems lead to situations where one person is strolling about around a dull minded twit lying helplessly on the floor. Four, as enjoyable as it is for me to have you at my disposal, it is wrong. Very very wrong. We are both equal to each other and if you chose to misbehave I will be forced to teach you right. Do you understand?"

Draco growled and nodded. Hermione flashed a smile and released him.

"You're a bit more devious than I thought, Hermione," Draco said, stretching his muscles in front of her. She nodded proudly.

"We still have work to do, you know."

"No we don't. I've already scoured all seven floors looking for you. It's time to hit the hay."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. I'm going to bed and I hope you've learned you're lesson."

"No, not really. I just found out you could do wandless magic. No big deal. You don't scare me."

"Liar."

"Come now, Granger. Me afraid of you? That's ridiculous. You just think you're so tough, when really, you're not." He turned and started for the suite.

"Oho," Hermione mused. She caught up with him. "You're calling me the hypocrite? I did hex you, you know. It's not like you were going to do the same to me."

"Now of course I would, Granger. Why wouldn't I? You're pesky, stubborn, and vile. Even worse than me. I did everything I did to help you. If anyone it's you who should be punished."

"Wow, with just one more brain, what a half-wit you'd be."

"Think about it, Granger. You first cracked because you were embarrassed. I cracked because I was annoyed at you."

"You threatened me because you are a naturally hateful person."

"Not completely, but at one point yes."

"Yeah, one point being the day you were born and you haven't changed since."

"Oh _lovely_, Granger. You were always the little charmer."

"I am."

"Whatever you say. _Detego deductum!_"


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: Story Alert list. Reviews. Cookies. That's all I want.**

**Disclaimer: Phooey.

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**

Chapter 6

It was midnight when they came back. Hermione enjoyed a dreamless sleep until she was woken by a melodic voice. Her heavy eyelids heaved open and a blurry blonde girl was craning over her.

"Luna?" her voice came slow and groggy.

"Yes, it's me, Hermione. Hurry and get dressed. It's seven something and McGonagall wants us in her office at nine."

"Why did you wake me up _now_," Hermione groaned, burying her head in her pillow. I had such a good sleep."

"Well that's not what Draco said." Luna began pacing around the bed. "Maybe he's lying, but he said you had a nightmare last night."

"What else did he say?"

"He said that Blaise and I must have huge wads of wax in our ears because we didn't hear."

"Ah, well he's not lying. I did have a nightmare. A horrible nightmare. It was about _him_."

Luna laughed and walked to the door to the bathroom.

"Did you come through there?"

"No. Henrietta let me in. You forgot to think up a password. But I can see how this door is a nuisance. I can put a locking charm on it if you want."

"No, its okay. I'll do it myself later. Get out, Luna."

"Ugh, so rude," Luna muttered playfully and left into the bathroom. Hermione then heard her scream at Blaise, but just laughed to herself and got out of bed.

Light poured in through the curtained windows. She pushed away the thick red curtains and was blasted with warm golden sun. She let in a gentle breeze and then was fully woken, sharp and ready to tackle the day.

She suspected the day would get warmer and uniform might not be required. After all, there weren't any classes that day. She had been looking forward to the first day of learning, but realized a day to take the glory of school and the perils of an even busier year would be perfect. What bad would a little vacation do?

She dressed normally, sporting black jeans and a thin white ruffled shirt. She decided to wear the same flats from last night. After tying her hair in a ribbon and lightly glossing her lips, she was ready to go. Looks didn't matter so much to her. As long as she was decent there were no worries.

She was on her way to Luna's room when she heard a noise. It was then when she remembered her second pet: the dove. It flapped up to the top of his little cage, hanging from a stand in the corner of her room, squawking at something from below. When she checked, a bushy, ginger-colored cat turned its attention to her. It was Crookshanks, trodding towards her excitedly. She first let the dove out the window, not having much care for it, and then scooped Crookshanks into her arms. She cradled him as she went to Luna's room.

Apparently, Luna wasn't as easy going as Hermione thought. She generously made Luna's bed for and let out her eagle. Luna was busy frantically rummaging through her jewelry boxes.

"Luna, do you really have to accesorize today?"

"Of course I do! These things were expensive and it'd be a real big waste if I don't --- oh, Hermione! These earrings would look great on you!"

Hermione shook her head. "No thanks. I don't need anything and neither do you. Let's go, Luna."

"You don't know anything about accessorizing or how it affects your look."

"I don't and don't care."

Luna rolled her eyes and picked several matching pieces. She patted her hair, smiled at herself, frowned, and started all over again.

Hermione groaned and told Luna she'd be in the common room.

She gasped in surprise when she got there. It didn't even look like the old one. Everything was green and silver and black. All tassels were eliminated. The portraits were rearranged. The suits of armor were turned either silver or black. And there even were less of them. Some cases now displayed assorted arrays of cruel looking weapons. There was only one explanation for this.

"What do you think?" a voice said from behind her. She turned to stare at a grinning Draco sided with Blaise.

"Better." Blaise stated.

"Much, much better." Draco chuckled.

"It's disgusting, if you ask me," Hermione spat, pulling out her wand.

"I thought you didn't need it," Draco said.

Hermione ignored him and raised her arm. He stopped it and pushed it down. Hermione groaned in frustration. He chuckled. "I'm not afraid to hex you."

"And I never was to do the same to you," she retorted.

"What's going on here?" Luna was confused when she walked in to see Draco and Hermione so close to each other. Blaise, on the other hand, seemed entertained.

"There's going to be a duel," Blaise replied.

"Oh, for the love of ---" Luna wedged herself between both of them, facing Draco. He smirked at her. "Malfoy, you are impossible!"

"Just leave him alone, Luna. He's not worth any of it," Hermione sighed. "And call him Draco."

"_Draco_?!" Luna uttered in shock.

"That's my name, honey buns," Draco said wryly. He and Blaise burst out laughing and headed out.

"Why are you calling him Draco now?" Luna asked while they followed behind.

"It's silly to call each other by our last names. I mean, we'll be spending so much time together."

"True, but that doesn't mean we'll be doing it as friends. And I thought you wanted to avoid…_Draco_." She grimaced at his name. Her face contorted as if she had tasted yucky medicine.

"I figured that he was inevitable. We might as well give that up."

"You're right."

They both walked in silence, both thinking about the horror of trying to be friends with Draco. And then all they could think about was Draco.

Luna, unlike Hermione, was able to get back to reality. She came up with something to start a conversation. "I heard he's entering in the Tournament."

"Hm? What?"

"Draco, he's going to enter."

Hermione glanced at Draco. He and Blaise were arguing.

"Draco," she started. He and Blaise instantly shut up. Blaise nudged Draco's side, grinning.

"What?"

"I was just wondering…"

"Well then wonder somewhere else. You interrupted a very important conversation."

"Are you entering the Universal Wizard Tournament?"

"Yes, I am."

"You'll get yourself killed!"

"I thought you'd like that."

"…You have a point."

"I always do. Now, Hermione, if you will leave me alone, I, unlike you, will successfully talk someone out of entering themselves."

"Blaise?"

"I've got some family honor to restore!" Blaise said. "I lost another dad. My mom nearly out of self-esteem!"

"There are loads of women like your mother out there. You think just because you get into the Tournament people will see her differently?" Draco said.

"What do you mean 'women like my mother'? My mum's innocent! She had nothing to do with Terrence's death, or Hugh's or Tom's or Nate's. She's never killed anyone!"

"Sure, Blaise. Sure."

"I'm being honest!"

"My family's in even bigger trouble."

"That's because they're guilty. You, your dad, your mum ---"

"My mum has a clean cut conscience!"

"Well so does mine!"

Luna and Hermione exchanged uneasy glances and took a different path to McGonagall's, though they were nearly there.

"Well, I'm surprised," said Hermione. "I thought he wanted to go to impress everyone. Who would have thought he was doing it for his family?"

"He _is_ doing it to impress people, so they won't hate him for his father. I mean, why else would he do it? The ghosts would have scared off the Yinderlings, so he can't feel that way."

"Maybe it is the Yinderlings," Hermione said sarcastically.

"Oh no, I'd better tell my dad!"

"I think I've had enough family talk, Luna."

"If it bother's you so much, why not just get _your_ parents back. Can't you modify their minds back or something?"

"That spell was… No, I can't," she uttered sadly with a sigh. She really missed not having anyone to write to. She missed how her dad used to encourage her about school and such. She missed girl talks with her mom. She missed being loved.

Ron's family wasn't the same. The fact that Harry was parentless too didn't help. Knowledge that her parents were safe and happy didn't overshadow the regret.

At last they made it to McGonagall's office. Draco and Blaise were waiting at the door, now talking about quidditch.

"How am I supposed to know whether or not Jacoby Siphu is coming. I've never even heard of a school in Africa."

"But he's nineteen and I heard Ommannebabwe keeps their students for nine years."

"You just can't assume he goes there."

"What else would he do?"

"You don't know how much quidditch takes up your schedule."

"What about Viktor Krum?"

"Ahem," Professor McGonagall cleared her throat. The boys looked up… or down, since they were so tall.

"Oh, hello, professor," Blaise uttered, taking a step back.

"Why hello, Mr. Zabini," Professor McGonagall replied. "Come in." She moved aside to let them into her office.

The room wasn't much of a surprise. Everything was organized, old-fashioned contraptions lined up on shelves, and neatly stacked papers nearly reached the ceiling. It wasn't like Hermione or Draco had never been there before.

"I'm afraid you won't be spending your day like the rest of the students," said McGonagall, levitating over a tray of teacups and a teapot. "Draco, Hermione, you'll be showing Professor Isilee around and helping her understand how it goes around here. Maybe you can help her set up her classroom. After all, she just came yesterday. Like I told you before, make her feel welcome."

Hermione nodded, sipping her tea quietly. Draco swung his head back, groaning in loathing.

"Blaise, Luna," McGonagall said, ignoring Draco, "I have some lists of dates so you can help Draco and Hermione with their schedule. After that you're free."

They nodded.

"Oh, but before you all do anything, I need you to hand out some things." She got up to fetch a large stack of papers. Three more floated behind her.

"Hermione," she said, dropping the stack in her arms. "These belong to Gryffindors." She sat down, watching the stacks float to the others. "Draco take those to your Slytherin friends and Blaise, yours go to Hufflepuffs. Luna dear, I trust you know where yours are going." Professor McGonagall relaxed in her seat and pulled out her pocket watch.

"It won't be so hard. Those are only for sixth and seventh years. Everyone's probably still at breakfast, too, so get yourselves something to eat. I don't want any slacking off."

"No, ma'am," Blaise said. He was the only one paying attention. Draco, Hermione, and Luna were busy reading the packets in their stacks.

"What do they say?" Blaise asked Draco when they were on their way to the Great Hall.

"They're class schedules and school calendars. There's going to be six field trips, but I don't know where to. There's a letter for our parents along with a field trip form, but I can't read them. They're blank."

"Hermione?" Luna asked. She and Hermione were taking a different route.

"Yes?"

"Do you think there's a spell that'll let us read the parents' letters?"

"I don't think so. But whatever is in those letters probably isn't our business."

"Hm," Luna sighed. "I guess I won't be seeing the thestrals after all."

"Don't worry, Luna. You just give me that list and I'll fix my schedule myself."

"Really?"

"Yes, you have fun with Neville." Hermione paused to think. "Hey, are you…?"

"Oh no, Hermione," Luna laughed nervously. "We're just good friends."

"I'll take your word for it," Hermione said, not believing her. "Bye."

Luna waved before they both went to their tables. Harry and Ron had saved her a seat.

"Morning, 'Mione," greeted Ron, his mouth full of food. He shoved it down with some pumpkin juice. "Where were you?"

"I was with Draco, the rest, and McGonagall," she replied.

"Draco?" Ginny asked with a small smile.

"Draco Malfoy, yes. We have to give these out." She pointed to her stack on the table. "Yours is in there, Gin."

Ginny anxiously searched through the papers. She found a packet with her name on it.

"What's that?" Lavender Brown asked.

"There's one in there for you, Lav." Ginny replied, preoccupied with reading.

"Guys," Hermione said, gathering the pile, "_I've_ got to do this. You just eat."

She was offered help, but shook her head and started walking back and forth the table, passing the packets to their rightful owners.

"Hello, Hermione," said Georgie Isilee, stopping Hermione from running back down the isle to give a packet to Seamus. "What are those?"

"These? I'm not entirely sure." She actually was pretty sure what they were, but didn't want to make Georgie or any of the younger ones around her jealous. "They go to certain people. If I get yours I'll give it to you right away. Ta."

When she was done, she sat to read her own packet. She had all the classes she asked for, including Muggle Studies. On the page with all her classes was a diagram with three columns. One column listed just the subject, the next just listed the class times. The third column was blank. She didn't worry about that much, since she knew she would find out soon. The next page was a list of important dates. Six Fridays were labeled "7th Year Field Trip". The Saturday following the first field trip was labeled "First Task" and the same with the second Saturday, but with a different number task.

The First Task took place two weeks after the Champion Selection Ceremony, which occurred on October 27.

"You want those eggs?" Ron asked.

"Let her eat, Ron, you pig," Ginny said, shoving his stomach with her elbow.

"Just a tiny bit?" Ron plead. Ginny instinctively hit him in the back of his head.

"Alright," Harry said. He read ahead of Hermione in his packet. "Field trip! I don't know where, but hey, still getting out of school."

"Hm, letter's blank. Maybe Fred or George could help us with this." Ginny said thoughtfully. "And there are strange questions on the permission slip."

"Is your child reactive to mold, insect feces, and any one of a variety of aging and or decaying bacterium allergens?" Hermione read aloud.

"Who are you going to give the letter to?" asked Ginny.

"I don't know. Remus and Dora have sort of acted like Harry and my guardians, so them, probably."

"Good idea," said Harry, recalling the recent summer he spent at Remus and Nymphadora Lupin's house with Hermione. He especially remembered babysitting Teddy, Remus and Dora's year old son. Though Hermione did most of the babysitting. Harry was just entertaining him and being a bad influence.

"Or you could give it to my mum," suggested Ron. "She's been complaining about how boring it is at home lately. With dad's business trip and all..."

"Oh right, you're dad went to Hong Kong for the ministry."

"Yep." Ron nodded. "He's been promoted to Head Muggle Artifact Investigator. He told me he really grew to like traveling. You should've seen him when he got home that one time, after his first plane ride."

"I remember that," Ginny said grimly, revisiting the time her dad kept her and her brothers up a whole night talking about how incredible the motor was and how cool it was to use headphones. He even saw a man with an electric nose hair trimmer and was ecstatic.

Hermione had barely finished half of her food when Draco came over. He dodged a fight with Harry and dragged Hermione out the Great Hall.

"Why can't you just wait until I'm ready to go?" Hermione asked, jogging along Draco up a flight of stairs.

"Because you'd take forever." he replied. "And I don't think to waste any patience with you and your lot."

"My lot?"

"You, Potter, the weasels, and the rest of your mushy Gryffindor family."

"Why don't you call them by their first names?"

"Because that'd just be one step closer to turning into one of them. I'm in deep trouble with my lot, you know. Blaise went on and ratted on me for calling you _Hermione_."

"I don't think there's anything wrong with that. You Slytherins and respect issues…"

"Respect is a big thing for us, it's the key to power."

"Is that all you think about? Respect and power?"

"Is all you think about love and family?"

"No."

"Then, no, for me, too."

"Okay then."

"Granger, you can't possibly be comfortable with me calling you _Hermione_."

"I like my name, thank you."

"But don't you think your friends will get the wrong idea?"

"What idea? _That _idea? No way!" Hermione huffed. "They know me much better than that."

"And what if we _were_?"

"Then Harry and Ron'll kill us both and it will all be your fault."

"It'll be _your _fault." Draco protested.

"That means you'd think I'd… Like hell, _that'll_ happen, Malfoy!" she hissed. She was offended.

"It _is _possible, being as devilishly good-looking as I am…"

"It's not possible for me. I'm not one of those girls who falls head over heals for good looks and money. I can see past that, Malfoy."

"Oh yay! We're back on a last name basis. Aren't I great?"

"No. And I guess last names are better since we could never be friends. All that happens with us is strictly business, Malfoy."

"Fine. Didn't think first names meant much anyway. I'll try to ignore all the gossip."

"Gossip. Ha. I shouldn't be surprised."

"I wouldn't give you the details, but I'm pretty sure you know where I'd go."

"Change the subject, quick!"

"Okay… er, what do you think of the African Quidditch team?"

"Oh _no_," Hermione sighed, exasperated. "Don't. I hate quidditch."

"Well, I don't want to talk about school."

"Ah well, there's nothing else to have normal conversations about, you and I being just business partners."

"I would have been perfectly fine with quidditch, Granger."

"Well, I wouldn't. I'm not a boy."

"What makes you think girls don't like quidditch? The captain of the Mexican team is female and so is the seeker for China."

"I'd rather talk about school."

"I'm sorry, I can't help you there. I'm just going to shut up the whole time. You're doing all the talking." They stopped in front of the Muggle Studies classroom. Hermione knocked.


	7. Chapter 7

AN: I'm sorry if this bothers you, but I've changed the point of view. If you don't like it, please contact me through a PM and not a review. I don't know why, but I like writing in third person. It's more comfortable. But what do I know? I'm an amateur. I don't know which is better, so tell me. There may be mistakes I haven't caught. I'm looking for a beta, so PM for that as well.

I hope you don't hate me for changing the story again. Don't worry, this chapter's just in Hermione's point of view. No need to look back. I'm not entirely confident with the change, but please read through this chapter and tell me if you'd like it another way.

Oh, and if you're wondering when the more of the actual Tournament stuff is coming, my answer is "very soon".

Disclaimer: You can wish and wish, but it will never come true. None of us owns Harry Potter. Lovely Joanne K. Rowling does, though, and she's gotten a very shiny penny out of it.

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Chapter 7

Georgie took Malfoy's less than friendly greeting to heart, apparently. I could see the hurt in her eyes and tried to make it go away by having small talk. I was never a very good conversation starter…or rather, a conversation _controller_, because they always end up somewhere I didn't like. Quidditch, for example, is something that always pop up when I'm with Harry or Ron. Ginny and Luna and I have even gossiped about Iya Matsuki, China's best seeker. Yes, I knew what Malfoy was talking about earlier. I don't know about Mexico's team, and I'm not interested. Quidditch is not for me. I just wanted to make that clear.

The conversation I had with Georgie ended, period. She merely led us through the classroom.

Stacks of large cardboard boxes, some taped rather excessively with duct tape and some spilling packing peanuts, stood throughout the otherwise empty room. The floor was in need of being swept and the magic concealing the peeling and cracks in the wall was wearing off. Someone was really in need of help to set up.

There were steps we had to climb, leading to an open door. Professor Isilee's office was clearly well kept and organized, except for a few things.

The beautiful woman from last night looked so wrong bent over on her knees. Her back was towards us as we puzzled over what she was doing.

On the top part of a rolling cart was a computer monitor, the screen blank. On the bottom part was the computer. Isilee was fiddling with something there. I quickly guessed she was trying to set up a rather outdated desktop computer.

Strewn all over the floor were thick instruction manuals and packing materials. Crumpled plastic and used up pieces of tape were carelessly shoved into a loose pile. When I approached I noticed a pair of scissors floating in the air. It snapped at me furiously, jabbing at my eyes and daring to go near my hair.

"Professor?" I asked curiously, after freezing the shears and catching them before they fell.

Isilee gave a startled "Oh!" and whipped around. Even flushed and rattled this woman was gorgeous. Her silky black hair was back in a bun and her glasses almost slipped off the edge of her nose. She was poor attempt to disguise a super model as a school teacher.

"You must be Hermione," she said in a lovely, empathetic voice. I instantly adored this character. She was like Mrs. Weasley, except inhumanely beautiful --- not in an insulting way to Mrs. Weasley, however.

Then Isilee turned to Malfoy and smiled her breathtaking smile, which he was somehow oblivious to. "Draco Malfoy?"

He gave her a small nod.

"Oh, you two have such pretty names," Isilee gushed. "I love that!"

Malfoy's eyebrows raised up at her questioningly. I don't know why I was slightly surprised that he ignored her looks and found she was really weird.

"Do you need help, Professor?" I offered, the briskness in my voice annoyed Malfoy, who didn't enjoy all the liveliness.

"Yes, I do, but not that much. I don't want to drag you into this."

"I have a computer at home," I implied.

"I do too, darling," Isilee said, her tone not matching what she said. "If you really want to help you can start by fixing the walls in my classroom or cleaning the floors…" She reached for the instruction manual. "Hm."

"My friend's dad once had to set up a computer at his house. I helped." I had not only helped with the setting up, I helped put out the fires.

"Okay," Professor consented, gesturing for me to come.

"You've pretty much got everything done correctly," I murmured, glancing back and forth between the computer and the manual. I spotted several errors she made, including ripping off parts not meant to be ripped off. I quickly and inconspicuously fixed these errors. It was amazing how the sockets and wires didn't look so confusing. "You just need the mouse ---"

"Oh, I've got the mouse!" Professor Isilee held up a mouse and got a mouse pad too. "Aren't they cute? Here's a mouse," she shook the computer mouse, "and here's a mouse." Her face was brimming with excitement for the picture of a mouse on the mouse pad. She giggled. Her marble face colored and her jewelry chimed.

"Right," I agreed nervously. "Then you need a phone line for the internet---"

"Oh, I don't! The ministry's connected us wirelessly!" Isilee held up a strange block like object. "It's a wireless adaptator!"

"Adaptor," I corrected, and took it. After sticking it in, I sat up and sighed. "That wasn't so hard."

"It was for me." Isilee said in disagreement. "I was trying to do it all morning. Georgie was right about you. You _are_smart."

"Thanks," I said, blushing, "Georgie."

Next to Georgie Malfoy was smirking. I scoffed silently at him. Like he could set up a computer.

"Okay," Isilee said with a sudden burst of energy and a loud clap of her hands, "now for some fun! Hermione, Draco, will you help me with a few renovations?"

"Sure." I said, ignoring Draco's groan.

* * *

Professor Isilee told Draco and I about her life with Georgie before coming here. 

"Maxime immediately took me for Beauxbatons's Charms teacher. Right after I told her that I was having a hard time with my first jobs she insisted I wasn't spending enough time with 'our kind' and that I drop my dreams of being a filmmaker. At the time, I was struggling with my Georgia Madison Marie," I saw Georgie wince at her long name. Her mother continued, with a tinge of pride in her voice, "I was the one who came up with the name, you know. Anyway, I stayed at Beauxbatons for two years, before I started putting cameras and spotlights in my classes. I thought it would be nice to just show my students a little bit of the muggle world. Everything, and I mean everything, is magical at Beauxbatons. Olympe didn't approve of that. She gave me one more chance, but one of the students I had upset --- I filmed her and showed footage of her falling on her face to the class --- went complaining to her parents and they complained to Olympe, then the other students' parents began complaining…" She sighed woefully. I could almost feel her pain. I didn't even know why. I had never gone through anything quite like what she did. But I knew sadness was also dawning on my face, and that Malfoy was watching me and I didn't want to think about what he thought. I shouldn't. And yet, I was so self conscious right now.

"I quit before she got a chance to fire me," she said quietly, gently polishing the glass of a portrait with her hand. It was about the size of an average piece of paper. The frame didn't look old and the picture wasn't aged either. It had a glossy surface and rich color, like that of a page from a magazine. "I took Georgie back to Paris and we lived with my sister for a while. I found a job in no time, as a muggle model. I enjoyed it, actually. Very, very much." She smiled to herself. "Catwalks were fun and the clothes were fantastic, if not bizarre, unconventional… I got to keep most of the things I was put in," she eyed a large closet that looked quite heavy. I wouldn't know for sure. Malfoy was the one who moved it, by levitating. "I made about two thousand a day! I never even had to use magic! Georgie and I were living the good life in a great condominium, and I never had trouble finding things to do on Saturday nights… Scratch that last part."

I smiled reassuringly at her. That bit was completely understandable. She's young, she's pretty, she's rich. Her husband has got to be the most idiotic fool in the world.

"And yet," she continued, "something was missing. Something very big. There was a huge hole in me that was never filled. I wasn't broken. Just incomplete. And no, it was not because my husband left me. His departure was actually an improvement…" I heard Malfoy snicker from across the room. He was straightening the desks and I was wiping the windows with Isilee. Georgie was fluffing heavy dust out of some old curtains, sending dust bunnies and dead doxies dancing across the floor.

"I really liked cameras. Modeling in front of them was the best. Most don't know how exhilarating being photographed is." I could easily disagree with that. There is nothing worse than wizard paparazzi. Thank Merlin Remus got Harry and I restraining orders for the snoopy Rita Skeeter. Ron, on the other hand, still has the occasional reporter knocking on his door, but he's got Mrs. Weasley.

I crept behind Isilee to see the portrait. Her long, delicate fingers, white as snow, slid off the glass when she noticed me.

It was a picture of her. I immediately recognized the flawless porcelain face, her black eyes staring lazily away from the camera. She resembled all the other supermodels, slim, graceful, and solemn. Her dress was also white, flowing freely. The neckline was so low the dress seemed to slip off her. But the picture was still, a muggle picture. The lighting was pale to match the subject and the backdrop was plain black. The few witch fashion magazines now had moving scenery backdrops and bright lighting. Ginny subscribed to all the witch magazines in Britain and tacked photos on her wall, that's how I know.

Though, the picture could pass for a magical one. It was so perfect. It reminded me of veela. If it weren't for Isilee's shiny black curls, she would look exactly like one of the dancing veela I saw at the Quidditch World Cup.

"Wow," was all I could say. Could the lady next to me really be that same one in the picture? She is a teacher after all.

She laughed. "Thanks." In the next second she was gone. I barely got to blink my eyes a twice before she was back. "I hope I don't seem boast-y, but," she pushed a thick photo album at me. I was surprised at the weight. I almost hit the floor when she handed it to me. I looked up at her feebly. She shrugged, making me feel more guilty for underestimating her so much.

I struggled to keep silent as I turned the pages. Each picture was a powerful strike at my eyeballs and an even more powerful one at my self-consciousness.

Isilee continued in a happier tone. "I even landed some small movie roles!" Oddly, this took me by surprise as well. Maybe it isn't so impossible that this woman could do anything. "But, like I said before, I was incomplete. My life continued uneventfully. But then," she stopped for dramatic effect, "news of a Muggle Studies teacher totally hit me like a bomb. It was then when I had my epiphany, when I knew what I had to do.

"Albus Dumbledore is the kindest man ever," she sighed, "He approved of my great teaching plan! _He approved of it! _I nearly died when he told me it was one of the most clever teaching strategies he'd ever heard of. It was perfect for my subject. And Minerva even found it good! The other teachers thought I was crazy, but not Dumbledore. He said he saw something in me. Something big." She sighed again. "My dear, I will create a great masterpiece that will go down in history. This year I will be making my first movie."

_She's crazy_, was the first thing that came to my mind. A voice in my head screamed, "Crazy! Crazy! Crazy!" But I refused to insult such a creature in such a way. No no no, there is nothing wrong with her. She just needs a little help. I had heard of the Boulevard of Broken Dreams. I had heard how bad the ridicule is in the movie world. I couldn't let anything nearly as terrible happen to Professor Isilee. She had already gotten me to see her as a good friend! I can't let her hurt herself.

"Er…Professor?" What could I do? She looks so firm on her idea. Look at her face, it's glowing.

"Oh no," Isilee pleaded. Inside I winced at her sad expression. I thought she knew I didn't like her movie dream, but she said something unrelated to that. "I don't like _Professor_." Why are people are so concerned about what people call them? "My name is Jolene. Call me Jolene."

"Right. Jolene," I paused, beginning to play with my fingers, "a-are you sure?"

"Of course I am! No offense to the other teachers, but I think thirty is a little young for 'professor'."

"You're thirty?" I asked loudly, incredulous. I thought she was somewhere closer to twenty. "Never mind, that's not what I meant. Are you sure about the movie thing? I mean, I heard it's pretty tough to make movies."

"Yes. Don't be silly. I'm not going to be _too_ serious with it. I'll get better through the years. Perhaps I will just start with documentaries, then move on to scripts. Don't worry. I know you're worrying." She pointed to my face. "Worry isn't right for your face, Hermione. It isn't right for anyone's. Please trust me? I know I don't look like a hard worker, but I am. And I have been for some time. So, you aren't stopping me from doing something I've been waiting for, _needed_, for so many years. But I don't want you to feel different about me. We are friends, right?"

"Right," I uttered nervously.

"And you?" she said to Draco.

I watched his still expression. He nodded so slightly it didn't look like a nod. This worried me, but Jolene found it positive.

"Good," she said firmly, "then you should side with me on this one, in this dispute with most of the wizarding word. I tell you, not many see what I see. Not many agree with the statement I have."

I wasn't supposed to feel sorry for her, but I did. She's in over her head. I turned my head expectantly towards Malfoy, with growing fear that he might make a rude comment, despite the fact that he promised not to speak. He was an emotionless stone again.

There was an uncomfortable silence, getting longer, tensing. I really wanted to say something, but didn't know what to say. Talking might have been a bad thing to do. Then, Jolene spoke.

"I have to take care of some things." Her voice was happy again. "My favorite color is purple and I don't like Power Rangers. But I am fond of Japanese cartoons and Broadway. And I used to have a dog named Cheerio, but he died. There, now you know everything I think you need to know. I loved having you two here. Suppose you could stop by for tea tomorrow? No. Classes start tomorrow. That means I have to get to work. You can stay here and finish if you want, but I don't want to ruin your day. I'm sure you have friends to play with."

"Okay?"

"Okay." Jolene smiled. Georgie followed her out into her office, leaving me and Malfoy alone to fix up the rest of the classroom.

* * *

I was sweeping the little bits of Styrofoam across the floor, humming to myself. My mind had wandered away from my work. 

I saw myself riding in a long, silent limousine. I was daintily putting a glass of champagne to my lips while a man less elegantly dressed than me babbled endlessly. He had a pocket organizer in one hand and a stinking cigarette in the other. He looked like an overworked rich person's assistant with sweat on his brow, a short, graying beard, and shiny black sunglasses hiding bloodshot eyes.

"Then on the Tuesday after the photo shoot you have a conference to go to. Just some lecture I suppose, and it's in Japan. Hon, you think I should cancel it?"

I didn't answer that question. I gazed at a stretching crowd of fans lined up behind metal barristers, screaming and waving huge banners. My face was kept still and expressionless. I didn't want to ruin the makeup that took hours to apply or the outstanding hair, now dyed black from her most recent project. I passed a billboard with a head shot of a woman with the pitch hair and a god-like man facing her, their lips barely touching. The photo had been retouched, adding a lusting twinkle to her eyes and the man's. Only her name and the movie's title were on the advertisement. "Hermione Granger," escaped my lips.

"'Mione? Hermione, hon, the conference?"

I gave a short, small gasp before turning to smile at my assistant. I knew I looked beautiful. I mirrored Professor Isilee. _Jolene_ as I was asked to call her. The movie I starred in at school launched my career.

I imagined more about myself. Then I became less like myself and in my mind's eye was a whole other girl.

She revolutionized the entire wizarding word. Films were in and it was all her doing. She was revered as the _first lady _of wizard showbiz, causing an eruption of fan frenzies and sending millions of galleons to my account. She was even more rich and famous than a certain hero from her past. Now either she was the hero or a god was, saving her, loving her, all on a big cinema screen.

Her assistant had put something into his organizer and handed her something she "might like to see."

It was an issue of the Daily Prophet. She was the main subject of a huge black and white picture on the front. _First Lady: Hermione, Strikes Again_ the big font read. Then, the picture of her was replaced by the title of her movie, then switched back to her, her animated face laughing. Below the picture was a two-page long article full of praise and gossip and, as usual, a summary of how she rose up to her skyscraping status. _Quiet, brainy Hermione Granger stars in first wizard film, directed by the universally acclaimed Jolene Isilee, and begins the movie film era in the wizarding world. _

She had become so famous her last name was no longer used. _Hermione recently finished filming the five-star rated film…_

"Oh, Hermione, darling! You've been nominated for another award! Best Actress in a Romantic Drama. Amazing, Hermione!"

"Hermione!" a voice shouted in my ear.

I snapped back into the real world, the world where I was not an actress. Why on Earth was I thinking that anyway? Jolene is still crazy, however hard it is for me to say it. I lost my grip on the broom and it landed with a thwack on the shiny floor.

Malfoy was right up at my ear, his hand on my shoulder. That certainly felt strange. It was supposed to be cold, just like his heart. "Granger, drop your stupid fantasies, okay? Isilee's a madwoman and there will never be a movie film revolution in our world."

I felt my cheeks grow hot and my hands somehow got a hold of the one on my shoulder. He quickly took it back.

"What is wrong with you?" he fumed. He flicked his wand at the broom and the dustpan, charming them to clean on their own.

"Professor Isilee said no magic in her classroom!"

"Listen to yourself, Granger." Malfoy was repulsed. "First Lady," he scoffed.

"W-Well, I ---" I stammered. Then terrifying realization swept through like a huge tidal wave. "How did you know that?"

He chuckled and took a seat on one of the desks. We had completely arranged the room to look like a classroom and not a neglected storeroom. "You may be a wandless witch, but I am an accomplished Legilimens."

"You were reading my mind?!"

"Well, what else was I supposed to do? I finished doing my part _with magic_, since being in a Muggle Studies classroom does not automatically make you a muggle, if you didn't know that yet."

"You are invading my privacy!"

"Granger---"

"_Granger_. A second ago you called me _Hermione_."

"Well, that was the last name I heard," Draco snickered.

"Oh," I muttered angrily. The most sinister and legal spell I could think of came to my mind and…

Immediately Draco pointed his wand at me. He was up, stiff, and glaring. His blue eyes were smoldering ice --- if that wasere even possible. I could feel myself getting paralyzed like a snarling predator's prey. That was what Malfoy could have been --- a snarling predator --- but he wasn't snarling. His lips were tight in a thin line, until, "Your talent is useless."

"Stop that!" I huffed, balling my hands in fists from frustration.

"Interesting, Granger," a new voice said from behind me.

Professor Snape had come into the classroom unnoticed. His thin mouth was twitched up at one end in a mean smirk. No doubt there was another on Draco's face.

"I presume Potter has taught you one of my very own spells?"

I was speechless, eyes wide in shock at the sulky looking, greasy-haired Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher of mine. Part of her wondered what he was doing here. Another hoped he wouldn't deduct house points.

He left swiftly and without a word. He did give Malfoy a look I didn't understand, but other than that, his visit was fortunately short, but terribly meaningful. I would be worrying about the two Slytherin monarchs invading my head until the day I died.

Malfoy laughed.

"Malfoy, you are impossible."

"Yes, and it also seems everyone sees Snape and I as royalty. How nice."

"Yes, you're the Slytherin Prince of Bleeding Bugger Bums and he's the King of Sadistic Sacks of---"

"Language, Granger," Draco reproached teasingly. "Besides, we're both considered princes and neither of us'll ever be a king."

"Do you think I care?!"

"I do. And our Kings happen to be dead."

"King_s_?"

"Yep, but we can't speak of them. I'll assure you, though, that the two you have in mind are not even close."

"Impossible."

"You seem to think a lot of things are impossible. I'm impossible,_they're _impossible,_that's _impossible."

"Get out of my head, Malfoy," I hissed.

"No. This is fun." He laughed.

Frustrated, I stormed into Professor Isilee's office, hoping he couldn't hear me.

But then I bumped into Snape. I was washed through entirely with anger, but couldn't help notice something different about this Snape. Five minutes ago he was the same old Snape, but now I knew something changed. What was it?

I had seen it on other's faces before, but the calculating part of my mind automatically rejected one of my theories. This was _Snape_. Was there something I had missed? Something that would make him appear like this?

I grew even more baffled as I watched it intensify. I was fully stricken when it suddenly vanished.

"Yes?" he asked calmly. He forgot something, I noticed. What happened to the venom?

"Unless you have anything in need, I'll be leaving with five points for wasting a teacher's time."

Without an answer he left. I stood on the spot, perplexed and humiliated. Had I forgotten so soon?

And then I was fearful of the amount of time they had been using their talents. I would have to report this to Harry. I had to complain to Dumbledore. Legilimency should not be used in school, not unless Occlumency was taught. My own Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was expressing a subject of the Dark Arts! And he even had a little sidekick.

_Sectumsempra_was being reconsidered, but the urge to curse Malfoy left when Jolene came strolling in. She had come through another door, with Georgie behind as usual.

"Hello, Hermione," Jolene greeted, waving at me though she was only a foot away. I waved back. Georgie waved. I waved again. Instinct, I guess.

"Do you need anything?" Georgie asked.

"Umm. No." I just needed to get away from a certain ferret who was reading my mind so I wouldn't totally slash him open.

"It's almost noon. Almost time for lunch." I noticed she had changed from her comfy looking clothes to a bright outfit similar to the one she wore yesterday.

"We're going to the Great Hall, would you like to join us?" Jolene asked. She changed as well. She wore a stylish and decent-looking orange dress that reached past her knees. She had brown leather boots on her feet, an long orange ribbon tied loosely around her hair, and many wooden beads and charms around her long neck and wrists. She didn't have make-up, it wasn't like she needed it anyway. She changed into clothing more matching to the season. Earlier she had pajamas under her robes and glasses hanging on the bridge of her nose.

"Yes," I said. I really had to stop thinking about how Jolene looked. I didn't want to end up a hairy green monster. It was also unhealthy.

Malfoy was nowhere to be found when we went into the classroom. We all shrugged it off and exited the room.

Jolene was the one to start the conversation. Georgie was the one who continued it. I followed, nodding and smiling, but not talking.

"…But I mean, Gaspard Finite has been a seeker since his years in Beauxbatons, and now he wants to be a beater? That doesn't make sense, Ma." Ugh, more Quidditch.

"It shouldn't matter much now. He is going to retire soon. They've already found a seeker to replace him."

"Really? Who?"

"He's a nobody, really. Since Gaspard's alternate is retiring as well, two new players were found. For the roles of seeker there will be two brothers ---"

She was cut off when someone came yelling down the halls towards us. "It's been changed!" the little boy cried excitedly. "It's been changed!"

* * *

**AN: It's been changed! It's been changed!**

* * *


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